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THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  ILLINOIS 

LIBRARY 

From  the  collection  of 

Julius  Doerner,  Chicago 

Purchased,  1918. 

654  RI9 
OrEb 

1696 


A  ROYAL  ROBBER 


By  HEREBERT  RAU 
author  of  "mozart,"  etc. 


TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  GERMAN 

BY 

AGNES  A.  E.  BLASE 


Chicago 
HOMEWOOD  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

Publisher? 


">■   ,^. 


,4t^S^|ti^^-,.,fc^W,.^„^^^^;^_^  \  *..>,.      .,..£> 


».A-.,       *  _  ^i(*«(ap5Sfajji.jafe.?!A^; 


J 


Copyright    1893 

BY 

MORRILL,  HIGGINS  &  CO. 
Copyright  1898, 

BY 

W.  B.  CON  KEY  COMPANY. 


^  xT^^A^J^^^j^S^Sa 


^.^^^^^^i^i^sMs^^^M^. . 


■■■•;-' '3' 

^T?.-^        i,^   Jpp- 


CONTENTS 

Part  I.      (Vol.  i) 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.     Louis  XIV  and  mi's  Court 7 

II.     Louis  XIV - 13 

III.  A  Day  from  the  Life  of  a  King 20 

IV.  "Nec  Pluribus  Imper" '. .  30 

V.     The  Marquise  De  Montespan    Louvois....  49 

VI.     An  Intrigue 69 

VII.     The  Conjuration 83 

VIII.     The  Dream. 98 

IX.     "A  noble  Friend"  .    107 

X.      The  Chase  and  th  :    Deer 119 

XL     A  distinguished   Rascal 135 

XII.      "The  Catastrophe" 148 

Part  XL 

xiii.     Strasburg 162 

XIV.  The  Tailor 165 

XV.  Family  Joys : 174 

XVI.  Hans  IN  Ichnekenloch 181 

XVII.     Alma 198 

XVIII.     The  Traitors 206 

XIX.     A  Trying  Hour 215 


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CONTENTS 

•  ' . 

Part  III.     (Vol.  2) 

CHAPT'ER  PAGE 

I.     The  Masquerade 225 

II.      The  Politics  of  France 254 

HI.     Storms 270 

IV.  The  Ghost 275 

Part  IV^ 

V.     The  Discovery 288 

VI.     The  Superior  of  the  Franciscans 300 

VII.     The  Star  of  Life = 315 

VIII.     The  Deliverer 322 

IX.  The  Happiness  of  Love 341  , 

Fart  V. 

X.     The  Suitor 354 

XI.     The  Witch's   Kitchen 373 

XII.  The  Duchesse  De    Fontanges 389 

XIII.  An  Audience 401 

XIV.  Darkness  and  Sorrow , 412 

Part  VL 

1.     The  Secret  of  the  Bridge 421 

n.     The  Gardener's  Wife 445 

III.  Hannibal  Ante  Sortas 462 

IV.  A  Sad  Day 477 

V.  The   Capitulation 485 

VI.     Dreams  and   Illusions , 504 

vn.  A  Withered  Rose 519 

vin.  The  Rule  of  Nemesis 529 

IX.  The  Consecration  of  the  Robbery 536 

X.  Joy  and  Sorrow 545 


^}'-'f^sdM&iSiJ£l^'llL'-indSi-.\.'^tZs\vii:ML^'JiJf£^ 


I 


A  ROYAL  ROBBER. 

PART  I.  I 

LOUIS  XIV  AND   HIS   COURT. 

CHAPTER  I. 

The  peace  of  Nymwegen  had  strengthened  anev;  the 
power  of  Louis  XIV,  King  of  France.  He  now  stood 
before  the  world  victorious  and  more  powerful  and 
greater  than  ever,  while  on  the  one  hand  his  century 
greeted  him  with  acclamations,  and  on  the  other  curses 
and  imprecations  followed  him.  For  more  than  half  a 
century  the  predominating  influence  of  this  powerful 
and  ambitious  king  was  felt  in  European  affairs.  Louis 
XIV  sticceeded  in  crushing  the  opposition  of  tiie  nobil- 
ity, which  had  been  the  bane  of  the  whole  kingdom; 
in  breaking  the  power  of  Parliament,  and  treading 
into  the  dust,  with  iron  heel,  every  attempt  made  by 
the  people  for  freedom.  The  nation  obeyed;  Parlia- 
ment received  laws  from  the  monarch  who  did  not 
hesitate  to  appear  before  it  in  a  hunting-jacket,  muddy 
boots,  and  riding-whip  in  hand.  Even  the  leaders  and 
heroes  of  the  Fronde  sunk  to  flattering,  hypocritical 
courtiers.     Louis  had  brought  his  kingdom   to  submit 

7 


8  A    ROYAL    ROBBER 

to  the  most  absolute  and  unlimited  sovereignty,  and 
his  bold  motto,  "  V  etat  c*  est  mot"  rolled  over  a  world 
trembling  with  astonishment  and  excitement.'  But 
above  all  the  king  knew,  understood  and  compre- 
hended France  and  the  French.  Civil  war  had  nour- 
ished and  increased  the  energy  of  the  French  people; 
now  the  crafty  prince  used  this  strength,  for  his 
chosen  ends.  Bold  plans  wake  the  ambition  of  the 
nation;  conquests — just  or  unjust— strengthened  it; 
heroes  like  Conde  and  Turenne  excited  the  volatile  and 
war-loving  people  to  an  almost  fanatical  desire  for 
battle;  while  the  brilliancy  and  magnificence  of  the 
court,  the  growth  of  giant  buildings,  the  protection 
and  support  of  the  arts  and  sciences,  filled  the  French 
nation  with  the  contagious  poetical  intoxication  of 
greatness.  What  was  more  natural  than  that  the 
warlike,  vain,  easily  excited  French  should  now  rush 
into  the  pathway  of  fame  and  greatness,  which  had 
been  opened  to  them  by  their  beloved  monarch 

At  that  time  the  stars  of  the  first  magnitude  in 
France  were  Mazarin,  Colbert,  Louvois — Conde,  Tu- 
renne, Luxemburg,  Catinat,  Vandonie — Corneille,  Ra- 
cine, Moliere,  Bayle,  La  Fontaine,  Boileau,  Fenelon, 
Bourdaloue,  Bossuet,  Saurin,  Massilon — Mansard, 
Claude    Lorraine,  Poussin,  Lebrun   and   many  others. 

Three  things  worked  together  to  give  to  France  an 
age  of  brilliancy  such  as  she  has  never  since  seen; 
and  these  were:  the  increasing  Intellectual  activity  of 
the  whole  people-   the  rare  individuality  of  the  prom- 


^|,;-"j!«-=,;««.-i^"-'^'^'^r'-i    -'•  -'«^^**"     V 


\ 


LOUIS   XIV  AND   HIS  COURT  -  9 

jnent  men  just  mentioned— and  the  great  interest  and 
co-operation  of  the  government.  A  new  era  dawned 
for  France,  an  era  which  in  many  respects  reminds 
one  of  the  time  of  a  Pericles,  an  Augustus,  ar.d  the 
Medicis.  And  this  brillianc}^  was  so  much  the  greater 
because  the  formerly  dreaded  rivals  of  France  had 
fallen  into  inactivity  and  weakness. 

The  sun  of  Spain  had  gone  down.  The  strength  of 
Germany  had  long  since  faded,  and  the  Emperor 
Leopold  I,  son  of  the  Emperor  Ferdinand  III  and 
the  Spanish  Infanta  Maria  Anna,  was  not  the  man  to 
rescue  the  German  Empire  from  its  disunion,  lethargy 
and  perversity.  Managing  the  helm  of  state  with  a 
weak  hand,  he  saw  the  Empire  threatened  In-  the 
Turks,  Hungary  in  rebellion,  his  capital,  Vienna,  be- 
sieged, France  at  war  with  Germany,  and  the  north 
of  the  Empire  growing  strong  as  an  independent  gov- 
ernment under  Frederic  Wilhelm,  Elector  of  Branden- 
burg. The  hopes  of  the  once  proud  and  dictatorial 
imperial  crown  now  rested  in  the  support  of  Holland 
and  England.  Denmark  and  Sweden,  however,  one 
or  the  other  alternately  allied  to  France  or  her 
enemy,  annulled  their  influence,  while  at  that  period 
the  voice  of  Russia  was  heard  but  little,  and  the  Sul- 
tan was  a  friend  to  Louis  the  Fourteenth. 

So,  in  two  great  wars  against  half  Europe,  Louis 
gained,  through  costly  conquests,  '  a  brilliant;  and 
richly  rewarded  victory. 

Nothing  would  have  been  wiser   and   more  natural 


ff^.rfftW'i(i=i>rti<Ji«,V-i  Pf.inftrt-V-r.it'ih  .i--ti  ri^^a-M'liSra'T-.  ■-r-fl^i'- 


4     • 

■':S-.'-^^^-:;' 

'^- 

'    / 

,    « 

'-ts-W^- 

t 

lO 

A    ROYAL 

ROBBER 

than  for  all  the  allied  European  powers  with  the  Ger- 
man Emperor  at  their  head  to  oppose  Louis  in  his 
plans  for  conquest,  but  the  Elector  Frederic  of  Brand- 
enburg was  almost  the  only  one  who  recognized  the 
importance  of  doing  so. 

He  entered  into  an  offensive  and  defensive  alliance 
with  Spain,  the  Emperor  of  Germany  and  Holland 
against  France. 

Louis,  in  consequence  of  this,  was  obliged  to  with- 
draw a  portion  of  his  troops  under  Turenne  from  Hol- 
land. Although  there  had  been  no  great  battles  in 
the  Netherlands,  the  French  army  had  been  very  much  ■ 
reduced  by  skirmishes,  sickness,  etc. ;  while  an  at- 
tempt of  the  new  general  to  invade  the  interior  of 
Holland  on  the  ice  utterly  failed 

The  French  were  so  luxurious  that  they  would  eat 
nothing  but  the  tongues  of  cows,  and  buried  the  rest 
of  the  animal  to  avoid  the  stench.  As  soon  as  mis- 
fortune overtook  them  their  wantoness  quickly  changed 
into  v/ild  vandalism;  they  committed  so  many  fright- 
ful crimes,  plundering,  levying,  burning,  etc.,  that 
the  worst  days  of  the  Thirty  Years  War  seemed  to 
have  returned. 

The  troops  of  Louis  the  Fourteenth,  were  obliged 
to  withdraw,  but  this  retreat  was  graced  by  3,000 
wagons  laden  with  plunder  and  booty. 

The  king  of  France  had  now,    as  before    no   further 
cause  to  continue    the   v/ar   or   commence   a  new   one,— \ 
east    of  all  with    Germany    which    really    wished    for 


'':;^f,5r;f^^«?^:V-- ■  ■  ■  .  ™"*^'»\  ^'  -   "t^*^^^- 


LOUIS  XIV  AND  HIS  COURT  11 

peace.  But  since  Louis  XIV  was  convinced  that  his 
seizure  of  Holland  had  been  a  mis-step,  his' pride  and 
insatiate  desire  for  new  conquest  soug-ht  another 
means  of  bringing  the  conflict  he  had  commenced  to  a 
victorious  close.  •. 

The  idea  of  a  universal  monarchy,  which  at  a  later 
day,  intoxicated  and  led  astray  Napoleon  I,  haunted 
the  mind  of  Louis.  But  as  he  was r  never  accustomed 
to  take  justice  into  consideration  with  his  desires,  he 
now  turned  against  the  German  Empire. 

Under  a  mere  pretext  the  Rhine-bridge  iiear  Strass- 
burg,  this  pearl  in  the  chain  of  German  cities,  was 
burnt ;  the  other  imperial  cities  In  Alsace  were  captured, 
soldiers  took  possession  of  German  provinces,  taxes 
were  unjustly  levied,  and  within  the  boundaries  of 
German}'  the  French  committed  many  arbitrary  acts 
which  even  their  own  rulers — the  Emperor  and  Em- 
pire— would  not  have  been  justified  In  doing.  But  al] 
this,  so  said  Louis  XIV,  was  in  no  way  a  violation  of 
peace,  but  only  kindly  Interference  against  the  dang- 
erous and  powerful  Emperor,  although  no  one  had 
asked  for  this  assistance.  Louis  declared  that  the 
welfare  of  the  German  Empire  was  very  dear  to  him, 
and  his  troops,  under  Turenne,  had  only  invaded  it  to 
keep  peace  and  order.  Still  he,  with  his  whole  army, 
was  ready  to  withdraw  from  Germany,  if  the  German 
Emperor  would  do  the  same. 

Thus  stood  political  affairs  at  the  time  of  the  be- 
ginning of  this  story.     At  the  sam^tlme  the  brilliancy 


tne  sam^; 


\ 


\ 


ijOiiAiiialaba^Snj^.. .  .iit&.ij^.  AafcSfcuaJ^/.... ..  j^a*  »'.  j. 


12  A   ROYAL   ROBBER 

and  magnificence  of  the  court  at  Versailles  and  the 
apparent  greatness  of  Louis  XIV  dazzled  France  and 
the  whole  world.  Louis  stood  at  the  height  of  his 
power;  he  was  possessed  of  the  best  armies,  the  great- 
est generals,  a  fine  navy  and  still  retained  the  affec- 
tion of  his  subjects.  Throughout  France,  arts,  sciences, 
and  commerce  flourished  better  than  ever  before — the 
most  brilliant  society  existed  in  Paris — nothing  could 
be  prouder  and  more  magnificent  than  the  court  of 
Louis  XIV.  The  most  beautiful  and  intellectual 
women  of  France  surrounded  the  throne  of  the  king 
like  a  magnificent  diadem  of  flowers.  But  Louis  XIV 
knew  how  to  appreciate  this  great  charm  of  his  court 
as  his  motto  proves:  "A  court  without  women  is  a; 
year  without  spring,  and  a  spring  without  roses,"  and 
verily;,  .he  plucked  enough  of  these  roses  to  sumptuous- 
iy  adorn  his  life. 


CHAPTER    11. 

LOUIS   XIV, 

The  scene  in  the  great  gallery  in  the  palace  of  Ver- 
sailles was  a  very  animated  one.  Servants  in  glitter- 
ing liveries,  cavaliers  in  still  more  gorgeous  court 
costumes,  ladies  dressed  in  satin,  silk,  or  velvet,  glis- 
tening in  the  colored  ra3's  of  costly  jewels,  but  still 
brighter  in  their  own  loveliness,  filled  the  spacious 
room  which  Mansard  had  adorned  with  a  wealth  of 
mirrors,  marble  and  gold  bronzes,  and  Lebrun  had 
decorated  with  his  noble  pictures.  The  palace  of 
Versailles  was  then  considered  one  of  the  new  won- 
ders of  the  world;  as  it  will  remain  for  all  time  one 
of  the  most  remarkable  monuments  of  the  history  of 
Art.  At  one  time  only  a  prior}^,  a  farm-house  and  a 
wind-mill  stood  on  the  eminence  which  now  bears 
the  crown  of  palaces.  In  the  days  of  Louis  XIII  the 
farm  house  had  disappeared,  but  the  wind-mill  still 
existed  and  often  the  sad  and  thoughtful  monarch, 
returning  from  the  chase,  had  slept  in  this  miserable 
hut.  He  built  a  pavilion.  Three  years  later  the 
pavilion  was  converted  into  a  small  castle.  Louis 
XIII  made  this  little  palace  his  toy.  He  passed  the 
winter  of  1632,  the  carnival   of    1633    and    the    whole 

13 


/ 


,iaieet/tffSi,J>M,^3Ata^,»i^=^\..^:W^'ii.^.^.:.Bjsr  i-iTM^^^^-r.  ...  ji..t.-;<!t.&. .  .• .  ~  „  f.ii»^ai^^  ...■.,- —>--'.*r..  .,j^.,.M. 


-:;  -X-'' 


H 


A  ROYAL  ROBBER 


autumn  of  the  same  year  there."  One  morning  when 
he  was  wandering  about  this  residence — the  only  one 
which  he  regarded  as  his  own  property — he  said  in  a 
moment  of  enthusiasm  to  the  Duke  of  Grammont: 
"Marshal!  do  you  remember  having  seen  a  wind-mill 
here?"  "Yes,  Sire" — answered  the  marshal — "the  mill 
has  disappeared,  but  the  wind  is  still  here." 

At  last — in  the  year  1683 — Loiiis  XIV  determined 
to  make  a  royal  residence  of  Versailles.  Mansard  de- 
signed the  plan,  Lebrun  sketched  it,  and  now  arose 
the  magnificent  building,  which  swallowed  no  less 
than  one  hundred  and  sixty-five  million  livres,  and 
which  by  the  unfortunate  desire  to  imitate  Louis  XIV, 
for  a  long  time — to  the  misery  of  nations  and  subjects 
— gave  the  example  and  pattern  for  a  multitude  of 
castles  to  European  princes. 

The  courtiers  and  dignitaries  of  the  kingdom  \yere 
gathered  together  in  the  great  gallery  of  this  castle, 
to  attend  His  Majesty  according  to  their  rank  and 
title  at  " les  grandes  011  secojides  entrees"  of  the  "Lever"; 
for  Louis  XIV  was  surrounded  by  a  strict,  almost  in- 
credible ceremony  which  reminded  one  of  Eastern 
potentates.  Louis  XIV  liked  it  to  be  so,  .  .  .  but  Louis 
XIV  was  cunning  enough  to  unite  therewith  diplo- 
matic strategy.  For  him  everything  depended  upon 
making  an  end  of  the  feudal  system  in  his  kingdom, 
bending  the  once  proud  and  independent  French 
nobility  under  the  yoke  of  his  scepter,  and  reducing 
them  to  an    absolute    dependence    upon    the    crown. 


a^flr^l^l4'-in"ViftJ^ftAl'^liffiil^ail/^^ft^-t^Yf^l^tl^ ,  ^^ike^ 


'-^'!l^^■i'W^^^^P^^!^^p^vy^>^^^r^■^^'■^lf|^■^vrpr^ 


s^=~?» '-  •^isae' 


LOUIS  XIY  15 

^ 

Two  things  materially  aided  him;  the  innate  French 
vanity  and  extravagance,  and  the  ambition  of  the  nobility. 
Charmed  and  attracted  by  the  splendor  and  magnifi- 
cence of  the  court,  the  noblest  families  rushed  into  a 
rivalry  in  expenditure  which  only  too  soon,  led  them 
to  bankruptcy,  and  thus  to  the  most  entire  dependence 
upon  the  crown.  But  the  crafty  wearer  of  this  crown 
gave  them  a  good  example  of  pompous  show:  for 
example,  the  value  of  the  crown  jewels,  which  at  the  , 
death  of  King  Louis  XIII,  amounted  to  700,000 
francs,  in  i6g6,  under  Louis  XIV,  had  increased  to 
11,330,000  francs:  At  the  same  time,  satin,  silk,  vel- 
vet, costly  laces,  jewels,  gold  and  silver  brocades, 
leathers  and  trinkets  of  all  kinds  decked  the  ladies 
and  gentlemen  of  the  court  to  excess;  but  if  this  was 
usually  the  case,  how  much  more  so  to  day,  .  .  .  the  day 
on  which  the  Persian  ambassadors  had  been  granted  a 
ceremonious  audience — in  which  the}'  had  begged  to 
lay  at  the  feet  of  the  King  of  France  the  homage  of 
their  ruler.  Everything  therefore  exhibited  the 
greatest  magnificence,  which  reached  its  summit  in 
the  toilettes  of  the  Duchesses  de  Chatillon,  de  Rohan, 
de  Montbazon,  and  de  Beaufort,  who  passed  through 
the  gallery  with  the  ladies  of  honor  to  the  "entree  du 
labiner .  As  the  resplendent  suns  of  this  court,  they 
were  surrounded  and  followed  by  other  stars;  and  a 
long  line  of  ladles  and  gentlemen  of  high  rank. 
Merry  conversation  enlivened  all,  but  the  merriest 
among    the    crowd    of  courtiers  was  the  Due  de  Saint 


^^£si<»S^JSsS*s£s~fci&SSs^:i•.■;.J;iiKJi:^  ;^i  -'iA-. 


i™^.^.         ..     ^    i  ^  ~  ■?{    ^i< — ^^>T'^-«*T^   awa 


•l6      .  A    ROYAL    ROBBER 


Aignan,  the  favorite  of  the  King,  who,  inexhaustible 
in  spirit  and  wit,  had  won  an  important  influence 
over  Louis  XIV.  This  Due  de  Saint  Aignan  was  a 
handsome  man,  the  perfect  representative  of  a  true 
Frenchman,  joyous  as  the  day,  changeable  as  quick- 
silver, slippery  as  afi  eel,  and  yet  proud  and  chivalric 
in  all  his  waj's.  His  pale,  rather  thin,  face,  had  fine 
features,  intellect  shone  from  his  black  eyes;  the 
small  delicate  moustache,  and  beard  a  la  Henri  IV 
were  finely  traced.  Boldly  arched  eyebrows,  with  the 
slightly  aquiline  nose,  evinced  courage  and  decision; 
while  his  black  waving  hair  and  a  delicate  allongen- 
peruke,  such  as  the  King  was  accustomed  to  wear, 
harmonized  admirably  with  the  rest  of  his  appear- 
ance. 

The  slight  figure  was  very  conspicuous  in  the  dress 
of  dark  red  velvet,  whose  texture  was  almost  hidden 
under  its  gold  embroidery,  while  the  vest  of  gold  bro- 
cade covered  the  body  almost  to  the  knees,  like  a 
glittering  coat  of  mail.  His  handsomely  formed  legs 
were  clothed  in  white  silk  stockings,  fastened  by 
ruby  clasps  to  the  red  velvet  small  clothes.  Buttons 
and  shoe-buckles  were  set  with  the  same  stones:  a 
large  ostrich  feather — white  as  new  fallen  snow — 
waved  lightly  from  the  small  three-cornered  hat, 
while  the  sword  hung  with  a  defiant  air,  by  the  side 
of  the  cavalier,  and  pert  and  defiant,  merry  and  easy 
-^as  v/as  then  the  custom  of  Louis  XIV's  Court — were 
the  words  of  the  Due.     The  Due's  frivolity  in  matters 


&ti3&»«&,ii:'»  i&^,iAi&»ti^Sili^^.i,.i,^.^'l<>Sif.f'ii:.ij:l-,.v'i-iitJi^^ 


ffSSSSJ 


LOUIS  XIV 


17 


of  religion  was  well  l<nown,  but  as  the  report  had 
been  spread  among  the  courtier's  that  Saint  Aignan 
,  had  taken  off  his  hat  before  a  crucifix,  the  Duchesse 
de  Chatillon  had  just  asked  him  if  he  had  been  con- 
verted and  turned  to  the  Lord. 

Saint  Aignan  smiled  and  answered: — "We  bow  to 
each  other,  but  are  not  on  speaking  terms." 

"He  is  a  perfect  heathen!  " — exclaimed  Saint  Far- 
geaii — "Do  you  know,  ladies,  what  a  heretical  answer 
the  Due  lately  gave  me?" 

"No!"  exclaimed  all. 

"What  was  it  Prince?"  replied  St.  Aignan,  laughing 
— "I  have  forgotten  that  crime." 

"A  few  evenings  since,  as  I  was  rising  from  the 
gaming  table  with  the  Due,  he  was  polite  enough  to 
offer  me  his  equipage." 

"He  is  always  a  perfect  gentleman,"  said  the 
Duchesse  de  Montbazon. 

"As  I  knew,"  continued  St.  Fargeau — "that  his 
horses  had  been  in  use  all  day,  I  refused  his  offer. 
What  do  you  think    he  answered?""^ 

"Well!"  cried  all  laughing. 

" Morbleul"  said  he — "if  God  had  created  my  horses 
to  rest,  he  would  have  made  them  chaplaihs  to  the 
sacred  chapel. " 

General  hilarity  followed  this  remark;  but  the  Due 
received  many  delicate  taps  of  the  fan  from  the  ladies, 
accompanied  hy  "godless  man!" 

"I    don't    really  know   whether  I  am    godless,"    ex- 

2     jobber 


-£Jl^.^js»s^.^ 


-.J!..   .^4^h.^, 


^*  >   .:\  ' 
/ 

l8  A    ROYAL    ROBBER 

claimed  the  Due — "but  it  was  certainly  godless  tliat 
the  Prince  should  have  won  three  thousand  pistoles 
from  me  on  that  same  evening." 

"Why,  what  is  that?"  said  the  Due  de  Hacqueville — 
"the  Duchesse  de  Bourgoyne  lost  12,000  Louis  d'or 
last  evening. 

"Pah!  12,000  Louis  d'or!"  exclaimed  Monsieur  de 
Brissac  scornfully— "a  mere  bagatelle,  the  Montespan 
understands  that  better.  She  lost  four  million  livres 
at  Bassette  at  one  sitting,  but  compelled  the  bankers 
to  continue  playing  till  she  won  all  back.  The  gen- 
tlemen hoped  to  compensate  themselves  another  time, 
but  they  were  bitterly  deceived,  for  the  next  morning 
the  Montespan  wisely  forbade  the  game  of  Bassette." 

"That  she  could  easily  do,"  said  the  Duchesse  de 
Sevigne  merrily — "for  the  jeu  (P  atnour  still  remained." 

"And  with  it  the  six  prizes,"  *  said  Prince  Conde 
laughing. 

"And  yet  she  has  been  supplanted  by  Madame  de 
Soublse!"  exclaimed  St.  Aignan  carelessl)'. 

"And  how  long  will  that  color  hold?"  asked  the 
Due  de  Caumartin  ironically; 

"What  is  that  to  us,"  said  St.  Aignan — "For  my 
part  I  agree  in  this  case  with  Her  Majesty  the  Queen. 
A  short  time  since,  when  the  report  was  spread  that 
Madame  de  Ludre  was  the  King's  mistress,  one  of  the 
queen's  ladies  had  the  audacity  to  inform  Her  Majes- 
ty, and  added:    'Your  Majesty  must  oppose    this    new 

*    The  six  children  she  bore  to  Louis  XIV, 


''W^'^^^^T^^f   '*'"»  ■         -STWT^^ -" ---r.    ^    4S^^5^if: 


Levis  JBPr  1$ 


love!'    The  Queen  said  quietly,  *It  is  nothing  to  me; 

that  concerns  Madame  de  Montespan." 

At  this  moment  the  voice  of  the  first  chamberlain 
called:     "L' entree  du  cabinet!" 

The  faces  of  the  noble  company  were  immediately 
drawn  into  the  lines  demanded  by  etiquette;  the 
Duchesse,  ordered  their  brocade  skirts  to  be  smoothed 
out  by  their  ladies  in  waiting;  the  gentlemen  took  off 
their  hats,  and  the  whole  group  entered  the  royal 
apartments.  Those  who  remained  in  the  large  gallery 
replaced  their  hats  for  their  hour..  ..the  hour  of  the 
great  audience,  or  the  passing  of  His  Majesty  on  the 
way    to  mass,  had  not  yet  struck. 

There  were  about  sixty;  gentlemen  and  ladies, 
court  and  state  officers,  cavaliers,  marquises,  counts, 
barons,  and  officials  of  all  grades.  Many  of  them— 
who  perhaps  had  not  a  sou  in  their  pockets — gleamed 
,  and  sparkled  in  magnificent  costumes,  costing  more 
than  their  whole  propert}^  One  fine  looking  young 
man,  who  stood  modestly,  almost  with  an  air  of  em- 
barrassment, in  a  window-niche,  formed  an  exception, 
by  his  simple  dress,  which  marked  him  as  a  country 
nobleman.  But  how  could  the  modesty  of  the  youth 
and  his  plain  costume  escape  the  notice  of  the  cor- 
tiers  of  Louis  XIV?  They  whispered  and  jested  about 
the  youth,  and  were  highly  delighted  to  shorten,  the 
'entre  temps,'  the  tedious  hour  of  waiting  in  the  great 
gallery  of  Versailles,  by  witticisms  about  the  new- 
comer.    The  young  man,  however,  noticed  nothing  of 


is*:'«f-M^  ^■^•-.h'-^-V.."' 


20  A    ROYAL   RO«BER 

this.  The  splendor  and  magnificence  of  the  court  at 
which  he  found  himself  to-day  for  the  first  time — the 
impression  made  by  the  palace  and  his  present  sur- 
roundings—the crowd  of  noisy  courtiers,  who  moved 
abput  as  easily  and  as  much  at  home  as  if  they  were 
in  their  own  chambers^— the  ardent  glances  of  the 
ladies,  who  notwithstanding  his  old  fashioned,  plain 
dress,  looked  with  pleasure  at  the  handsome  young 
man — the  levity  of  their  appearance,  which  allowed 
all  their  charms  to  be  seen,  so  that  there  was  scarcely 
anything  to  conceal. ..  .all  this  perplexed  the  youth 
so  much  that  he  was  incapable  of  quiet  observation.' 
But  there  were  still  more  important  things  which 
made  him  thoughtful  and  depressed  in  heart  and 
mind.  Young  Gauthier  de  Montferrand  stood  at  one 
"of  the  most  important  turning  points  of  his  life-r-for 
it  was  the  intention  of  his  uncle, — the  worthy  old 
captain  of  the  royal  guard,  Monsieur  de  Torcy — to 
present  his  nephew  to  the  King,  and  introduce  him  to 
the  celebrated  Court  of  Versailles.  This  was  no  trifle 
to  do.  Gauthier,  who  was  only  twenty-one  years 
old,  had  lived  till  now  in  the  most  perfect  retirement 
in  the  country,  and  had  been  brought  up  with  the 
strictest  principles. 

Conflicting  feelings  raged  in  the  breast  of  the  youth. 
Once  enrolled  in  the  King's  body-guard,  what  a  bril- 
liant pathway  might  perhaps  be  opened  to  him!  Gen- 
erals and  statesmen  had  gone  forth  from  this  body 
guard,  which  stood  so    near    the    monarch.     Gauthier 


LOUIS  XIV  21 

was  Frenchman  enough  to  place  his  aim  high—young 
enough  to  dream  of  the  easiest  fulfillment  of  the  bold- 
est desires. 

Gauthier  felt  that  this  was  for  him  the  birth-day  Qf 
a  new  man  and  a  new  world.  He  felt  that  In  this, 
hour,  he  took  the  first  step  out  of  the  boundaries  of 
his  childhood;  but,  he  felt,  too,  that  in  this  same 
hour  the  paradise  of  his  childhood  closed  behind  him, 
and  yet  the  youth  understood  that  he  must  break, 
through  the  flowery  chains  of  childhood,  if  he  would 
be  a  'man  and  gain  a  future.  And  yet  in  this  decisive 
hour,  the  thoughts  of  the  young  man  turned  again 
with  pain  to  the  past.  Who  can  bid  adieu  to  an  Eden 
without  a  last  look  of  love,  of  sadness,  and  painful 
renunciation?  And  in  this  Eden  still  wandered  for 
Gauthier,  a  lovely  angel  w^ho  had  shared  with  him  the 
plays  of  his  childhood,  the  simple,  but  pure  and  noble 
joys  of  his  youth.  She  was  indeed  a  lovely  maiden — 
a  distant  relation — Marie  Angeline  Scoraille  de  Rou- 
sille.  Mademoiselle  de  Fontanges; — a  vision  of  beauty, 
whose  auburn  hair,  mild  eyes,  and  dazzling  whiteness 
of  skin,  gave  an  idea  of  the  Madonna. 

What  joyous,  happy  hours  Gauthier  had  passed 
with  her  where  her  little  ancestral  castle  stood 
in  charming  Limagne,  on  the  banks  of  the  Allier. 
,  The  youth  was  lost  in  these  sweet  dreams,  forgetful 
of  his  surroundings,  thinking  of  this  picture  of  his 
loved  home,  of  the  ancestral  castle,  of  the  faith- 
ful     old      mother,      who      now     occupied     it     alone 


22 


A   ROYAT/^fiBER 


and  of  Angeline,  when  a  well-known  voice  fell  upon 
his  ear.  It  was  that  of  his  uncle,  Captain  de  Torcy, 
just  coming  from  the  royal  apartments  into  the  gai- 
l^ty,  who  now. approached  his  nephew:  j 

"It    is    ev.en    so.    Prince,"    said    de   Torcey   at    this 
Y     moment — "the  Fontanges  are  connections  of  ours,  but 
only  a  single  brand  of  this  old  family  remains.     It  is 
a  very  pretty  and  charming  one,  however."  | 

,      "And  that  is  Mademoiselle  Scoraille  de  Rousille?" 

"At  your  service." 

"But  how  did  you  learn  that  the  child  is  so  beauti- 
ful. Monsieur  de  Torcy?  You  have  not  left  the  court 
these  twenty  years,  and  yet  you  say  that  Mademoiselle 
Angeline  is  only  sixteen  years  old."  ■ 

"Where  did  I  learn  that?" — answered  the  captain 
with  a  proud,  pleased  smile — "I  know  it  from  yonder 
young  fellow!"  and  he  pointed  toward  his  nephew, 
who  still  stood  in  the  window  niche,  and  at  the 
approach  of  the  Prince  and  his  uncle,  bowed  re- 
spectfully, though  rather  awkwardly.  i  - 

A  scornful  expression  played  round  the  corners  of 
St.  Aignan's  mouth;  then  he  shrugged  his  shoulders 
and  said:  "The  heart  of  a  youth  is  a  partial  painter 
in  such  matters. "  ^ 

"And  you.  Prince" — interrupted  the  captain — mte  a 
doubting  Thomas.     Look  here!"  i 

Torcy  drew  a  miniature  from  his  breast-pocket.  "But 
the  Prince  had  scarcely  cast  a  glance  at  the  picture, 
when  he  exclaimed  with  astonishment.     "That  is  in- 


^^i,M^.£^^&,^&^^^^^ 


LOUIS  XIV 


«3 


deed  a  charming  creaturel  How  did  you  get  such  a 
treasure,  old  swash-buckler?" 

"Gautier  brought  it  to  me,"— answered  de  Torcy 
■v^ith  ill-concealed  vanity,  and  at  the  same  time 
introduced  his  nephew  as  Angeline's  young  friend 
and  playmate.  ' 

What  thoughts  rose  in  the  mind  of  the  Prince 
at  this  moment,  neither  the  new-comer  nor  the  old 
soldier  could  guess.  Only  one  thing  was  plain;  the 
Prince  suddenly  welcomed  young  Gauthier<to  the 
Court  of  Versailles,  with  great  warmth  and  kindness. 
Indeed  at  parting  he  even  offered  his  hand  to  him  and 
said:  "We  shall  be  friends!" 

But  how  this  scene  had  suddenly  changed  the  man- 
ner of  all  present  towards  the  young  man.  The  Due 
de  St.  Aignon,  though  a  much  younger  man  than  the 
king,  was  one  of  his  favorites.  In  a  moment  all  jests, 
witticisms,  and  bon  mots  upon  the  new-comer  ceased, 
and  the  scornful  manner  of  the  courtiers  instantly 
became  respectful  now  that  the  Prince,  a  favorite  of  the 
king,, had   honored    him   with  so  friendly  a  reception. 

"You  are  a  lucky  fellow,"  cried  the  Captain,  as  the 
Prince  withdrew.  "If  he  speaks  a  good  word  for  you, 
you  are  secure!  He  is,  to  be  sure,  one  of  the  wildest 
and  most  extravagant  men  at  court,  but  certain- 
ly one  of  the  most  influential!** 

"One  of  the  wildest  and  most  extravagant?**  repeated 
Gauthier  with  astonishment- — "and  I  must  depend  up- 
on him?'* 


24 


ROYAL   ROBBER 


.         Monsieur  de  Torcy  would    have   answered,   but    at 
that  moment  came  the   announcement    that   the  great 

\  audience  of  ceremony  was  about  to  begin.  The  whole 
gallery  was  in  motion,  as  if  by  magic, and  all  streamed 

-  toward  the  Audience  Hall.  Torcy  and  his  nephew 
followed.  Gautier's  heart  beat  audibly;  now  for  the 
first  time  he  was  to  see  Louis  XIV,  surnamed  "the 
great."  Grand  and  imposing  was  the  Hall  of  Audi- 
ence, upon  which  Mansard  and  Lebrun  had  lavished 
all  the  resources  of  art.  Grand  and  imposing  was 
the  company  collected  here,  for  it  comprised  the  high 
birth,  intellect,  and  beauty  of  France.  But  what  was 
all  this  in  comparison  to  the  moment  in  which 
the  doors  flew  open  and  the  grand-master  of  ceremo- 
nies appeared  among  them  with  the  announcement — • 
"the  King" — all  heads  were  uncovered,  and  the  Sun 
of  France,  Louis  XIV,  followed  by  the  Queen,  the 
royal  Prince,  the  Marquise  de  Montespan,  Madame  de 
Soubise,  Madame  de  Liidre,  the  whole  Court  and  the 
ministers  and  officers,  entered  amid  a  flourish  of  trum- 
pets. Every  one  bowed  to  the  dust  and  a  death- 
like silence  followed  the  sound  of  the  music.  The 
king  alone  was  covered.  Slowly,  proudly,  and  grave- 
ly he  inclined  his  head  and  the  .  bended  backs 
dared  to  straighten  themselves.  i 

Louis  XIV  wore  a  dress  ornamented  with  gold  and 
precious  stones  worth  twelve  and  a  half  million 
francs;  his  tall,  noble,  and  powerful  figure  could 
scarcely  stand  upright  beneath  its  weight; 


u>uis  xnr        ^  25 

And  yet  Gauthier  did  not  see  this  dress,  but  only 
the  king,  only  Louis  XIV,  whom  the  world  called 
the  Great  and  who  indeed  stood  before  him  like  a 
demi-god  among  men.  Louis  XIV*  throughout  his 
long  reign,  knew  how  to  represent  in  a  masterly  man- 
ner, the  king.  "With  him,  everything,  down  to  the 
slightest  movement,  the  slightest  word,  was  measured, 
majestic,  grand,  and  yet  unstudied  and  natural. 

No  man  ever  accomplished-  so  much,  or  produced  so 
profound  an  impression  by  such  means.  A  glance 
frbm  his  eye,  a«gesture  of  his  hand  was  sought  and 
noticed,  caused  happiness  or  misery.  And  was  he 
not  at  the  same  time  one  of  the  handsomest  men 
in  France?  Though  not  tall,  he  was  of  good  height, 
and  knew  how  to  place  himself  on  a  par  with/- the 
tallest  by  his  perfect  bearing,  as  well  as  his  high 
heels.  His  mouth  was  beautiful,  his  aquiline  nose  in- 
dicated firmness,  there  was  an  imperious  expression  in 
the  glance  of  his  blue  eyes,  while  his  slow,  sharply 
accented  manner  of  speech,  lent  a  commanding  earn- 
estness to  his  wordg.  In  his  whole  bearing  appeared 
the  Spanish  gravity,  an  inheritance  from  his  mother, 
'  a  gravity,  however,  most  agreeably  tempered  b)^  French 
grace.  Gauthier  was  overpowered  and  enchanted, 
as  every  Frenchman  must  have  been  by  such  a  king; 
but  the  formality  almost  depressed  him,  so  that  he 
breathed  more  freely  and  easilj'  when  the  sovereign, 
and,  following  him,  the  Persian  ambassadors,  had  re- 
tired.    For  him,  there  yet  remained  the  most  import- 


^ 


A  ROYAL  ROBBER 


ant  moment,  that  of  his  own  presentation.  But  the  hour 
had  not  yet  struck;  for  at  the  Court  of  Louis  XIV, 
everything  moved  according  to  the  laws  of  an  immuta- 
ble, all-controlling  etiquette.  Gauthier's  presentation 
could  only  take  place  in  the  great  gallery  at  the  king's 
progress  to  holy  mass. 


r' 


-v.*£liaLj4fcV.  > 


CHAPTER  III. 


A  DAY  FEOM  THE  UF£   OF  A  KINO. 


When  Gauthier  had  returned  to  the  gallery  with 
his  uncle — the  whole  court,  with  the  exception  of  the 
princes  and  princesses  of  royal  blood,  did  the  same 
—  Captain  de  Torcy  asked  his  nephew  what  impression 
he  had  received.  The  youth,  full  of  enthusiasm,  dis- 
closed his  whole  heart.  He  was,  as  is  the  custom  of 
youth — fire  and  flame.  Only  this  tedious  ceremony; 
the  fetters  of  etiquette  were  disagreeable  to  one  who 
was  accustomed  to  a  free,  happy  life  in  the  midst  of 
nature.  Torcy  listened  to  him  with  smiles;  but  when 
Gauthier  had  finished,  exclaimed:  "O,  ho,  my  young 
man!  I  see  you  think  it  is  the  same  here  as  in 
Limagne!  You  cannot  forget  the  beautiful  mountains 
of  Puy  de  D6me  and  Mount  d'or;  but  Paris  and  Ver- 
sailles, St.  Germain  and  Marly  are  not  on  the  charm- 
ing banks  of  the  Allier,  and  at  the  court  of  a  great 
king  things  are  different  from  the  life  in  your  ancestral 
castle.  But  that  you  may  understand  the  manners  of 
our  court,  I  will  describe  a  day  from  the  life  of  the 
king,  and  thereby  pass  awiay  the  tedious  hour  of  wait- 


ing. 


How  will    that  help   me,    uncle!"   said  Gauthier^ 


28  A    ROYAL    RtJBBER  i 

'    ■ "  .  .  .     I    ■    ■■  -■• 

"surely    each    day    brings    its     own    affairs,    its    own 
changes ! " 

"Scarcely,  my  young  friend!"  answered  the  uncle; 
"one  passes  like  another,  at  least  so  far  as  etiquette 
is  concerned;  and  to  this  His  Majesty  -clings,  as  to 
a  sacred  thing.  So  listen  and  impress  what  I  say 
upon  your  mind,  for  any  mis-step  upon  this  smooth 
floor  may  deprive  you  of  positioi;i  and  future  pros- 
perity." 

The  young  man  had  not  expected  such  constraint  at 
the  court  of  so  powerful  a  king.  His  joyousness, 
youthful  courage,  and  ideas  of  freedom,  rose  strongly 
against  the  yoke  which  was  about  to  be  laid  upon 
him;  but  he  could  not  turn  back.  He  therefore  yielded 
quietly,  and — suppressing  a  deep  ^gh— lent  an  ear  to 
his  uncle,  who  stepping  with  his  nephew  into  the  win- 
dow, continued:  "At  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning,  if 
the  king  still  sleeps  the  'garcons  de  chambre*  enter, 
if  it  is  cold,  make  a  fire,  or  if  warm  gently  open  the 
windows.  Then  they  take  the  Pen- cos,'  'the  'moriier\ 
and  */(fV  de  vielle'  away."  ! 

"  Uen~cas,  mortiery  lit  de  viellef  repeated  Gauthier, 
"what  are  they?"  ,  |        ^ 

"  Ventre-saint-grisr  exclaimed  the  captain,  "it  is 
very  evident  that  Limagne  is  far  away  from  here, 
otherwise,  young  man,  you  would  know  things  which 
are  jiaily  used  by  our  great  king.  ^Uen-cas,*  is  a  meal 
which  is  always  ready  at  night  in  case  the  king  should 
become  hungry.      The  ^mortier'  is  a  silver  dish  in  the 


tAit^u^li^:^..  ^.^■,AfS^,!iiA^ks^iBiit,,&i,;^^i.s3iii&^.^^-j.jii,..,^sx^£x^,j,,,AKi^.. 


A  SAY  FROM  THE  LIFE  OF  A  KlWa 


29 


form  of  a  mortar  which  is  filled  with  water,  amd  upon 

which  floats  apiece  of  yellow  wax." 
"And  its  use?-  -'^ ■ 

"It  serves  His  Majesty  for  a  night  lamp.** 

"hndithQlit  deviellef" 

"Is  the  bed  which  is  prepared  every  evening  in  the 
king's  room  for  the  first  groom  of  the  chamber." 

"Well,  and  when  all  these   things   have  been  taken* 
away?"  asked  the  young  man,  with  a  slightly  ironical 
smile. 

"Then,"  continued  the  captain  gravely,  "the  first 
chamberlain  waits  till  the  clock  strikes  half  past 
eight,  and  then  wakes  the  king  before  the  last  stroke 
dies  awayo  Thereupon  the  head  surgeon  and  physi- 
cian rub  the  king,  and  if  he  has  perspired  help  him 
change  his  linen.  Now  comes  the  entrance  of  those 
,who  have  free  access  to  the  ^Lever*  or  *les  grandes 
entries*.  The  first  courtier  opens  the  curtains  of  the 
bed,  and  offers  His  Majesty  the  consecrated  water 
out  of  the  bowl  which  has  been  brought  to  the  head 
of  the  bed." 

"And  those  who  are  present  at  the  ^Lever't'^  asked 
GaUtheir. 

"They  remain  a  few  moments,  in  which  they  have 
the  right  to  lay  before  the  king  any  petitions.  When 
no  one  has  anything  more  to  request,  the  cavalier  who 
drew  aside  the  curtains  and  offered  the  holy  water, 
gives  him  the  prayer-book.  Five  minutes  later  His 
Majesty  closes  the  book,  and  the  chamberlain  hands 


30 


A  ROYAL  ROBB£ft 


him    his  dressing-gown,   when   the    'sec^nd^s    entries* 
takes  place."  ^  | 

'And  who  are  admitted  to  this  ^secondes  tntries*f" 

"Only  those  of  the  highest  rank."  i 

"Poor  king!"  exclaimed  the  youth,  "he  never  has  a 
moment  to  himself." 

"0!"'said  his  uncle,  "there  is  more  to  come.  A  few 
•moments  after  the  reception   of   these  persons,  all  of 
great  distinction  are  admitted,  and  finally  those  in  the 
gallery  enter." 

"And  the  king?"  I 

"He,  in  the  meantime,  busies  himself  in  gracefully 
putting  on  his  shoes,  which  the  first  groom  of  the 
chambers  hands  him,  after  clothing  the  royal  legs  in 
.  silk  stockings.  Every  other  day  the  Court  is  present 
while  His  Majesty  is  shaved,  when  a  cavalier  is  allowed 
to  hold  his  mirror." 

"Allowed!     Allowed!"    repeated    the  youth,   and  a 
dark  flush  crimsoned  his  noble  face.  **Is  that  an  honor  > 
for  a  cavalier?"  .  ^ 

"  Ventre  saint  grisf**  exclaimed  Monsieur  de  Torcy, 
"a  great  honor! "  | 

Gautheir  was  perplexed  and  silenced;  but  the  cap- 
tain gravely  Continued,  and  explained  that  as  soon  as 
the  king  was  dressed  he  knelt  in  prayer.  Then  all 
present,  the  clergy,  the  court,  and  even  the  cardinals, 
knelt  about  him.  Only  the  lackeys  remained  stand- 
ing, and  the  Captain  of  the  Guard  on  duty  stood  by 
the  door  with  drawn  sword.     "After  that»"  continued 


-A  DAY  FROM  THE  LIFE  OF  A  KINO  31 

M.  de  Torcy,    "comes  the    the  *entrie  du  cabinet,*    The 
king  is  followed    into   his   cabinet  by  all  the  o€5cers. 
who  here  receive    their   orders    for    the    day.     So  the; 
whole  court  knows  in  the    morning  what  His  Majesty 
intends  to  do." 

"But  cannot  the  king  make  some  change  afterwards?^ 
said  Gauthier. 

Torcy  shook  his  head.  "What  Louis  XIV  Has  once 
ordered,"  he  answered,  "is  never  opposed  or  changed, 
unless  some  important, unforeseen  circumstance  occurs.** 

"Good  heavens!"  excj^imed  the  youth  in  an  under- 
tone, "then  the  king  is  no  better  than  a  slave." 

"Imprudent  boy,"  said  the    captain    with    an  angry 

glance,  "can  you   never  forget  your    Limagne!     Here 

even  the  walls  have  ears,"  and  twisting  his  moustache, 

.  the  captain  looked  cautiously  around,  fortunately  they 

were  unheard  and  unnoticed. 

"I  will  be  more  careful!"  said  the  youth  soothingly, 
but  he  blushed  like  a  girl,  and  his  heart  became  more 
despondent  at  what  he  heard. 

The  captain  took  up  the  thread  of  his  discourse 
again:  "After  giving  the  orders  for  the  day,  the  king, 
by  a  slight  nod,  grants  all  permission  to  retire;  he 
then  converses  with  the  young  princess  and  their 
tutors  for  about  half  an  hour.  Next  foHows  the  time 
for  the  state  audience  and  the  *entre  temps,'*  which  is 
the  present  time,  and  in  which  the  whole  court  waits 
here  in  the  gallery." 

"Then  almost  every  minute  has  its  particular  name  P 
taid  the  youth  smiling  sadly. 


,,  ,.       .,.,   ,...^.^.^ 


32  A    ROYAL    ROBBER 


"And  its  duties!  "  added  the  captain,  "Tn  a  qmtxter 
of  an  hour,  for  instance,  the  king  will  pass  us  on  his 
way  to  mass,  and  at  that  time  it  is  allowable  to  speak 
to  him,  and  present  strangers.  Collect  yourself,  young 


man. " 


Gauthier  trembled.  The  great,  decisive  moment,  in 
which  he  should  stand  face  to  fjace  with  Louis  XIV, 
was  approaching.  He  scarcely  heard  his  uncle's 
further  description  of  the  subsequent  council  of  minis- 
ters, and  the  visits  of  the  king  to  his  different  mis- 
tresses, the  Marquise  de  Mpntespan,  whose  star  was 
now  paling— Madame  de  Soubise,  and  Madame  de 
Ludre. 

Of  this  Gauthier  had  already  heard.  France  had 
long  been  accustomed  to  see  her  kings  languishing  in 
the  rosy  chains  of  love  and  beautiful  women,  and  the 
fact  was  now  scarcely  repulsive  to  a  Frenchman.  He 
listened  more  earnestly  to  the  further  description, 
when  Torcy  said:  "His  Majesty's  dinner  is  almost 
always  'au  petit  convert,^  that  is,  the  king  dines   alone.** 

"Alone?"  exclaimed  the  youth  with  astonishment, 
"and  the  queen  and  princes?" 

"Alone,"  repeated  M.  de  Torcy  with  an  emphasis 
which  cut  short  all  farther  questions.  "*  Tel  est  notre 
bon  plaiser,'  the  king  says.  When  the  table  is  laid, 
the  court  appears  with  the  princes  at  their  head,  and 
the  first  chevalieur  informs  the  king  that  dinner  is 
served.  The  king  appears,  sits  down,  and  is  attended 
by  thfe  first  cnamberlain   and   the  princes — often  eveu 


A  DAY  FROM  THE  LIFE  OF  A  KINO  33 

Monseigneur  his  brother,  while  every  one  else  stands 
silently  in  the  background  with  uncovered  head.  But, 
what  is  the  matter?"  exclaimed  Captain  de  Torcy 
suddenly.  "  Venire  saint  gris,  you  are  blushing  like 
a  girl!" 

"It  is  nothing!"  answered  Gautheir  with  embarrass- 
ment. "I  only  wondered  at  Monseigneur — ^^and  the 
other  nobles." 

"For  what  reason?"  broke  in  de  Torcy,  "the  king'ia 
the  state;  all  others  are  his  servants." 

"But  his  own  brother." 

"The  king  never  offers  him  a  chair  during  the  meal. 
Standing  with  uncovered  heads  and  napkins  under 
their  arms,  the  princes  of  the  blood  serve  him  and 
consider  it  an  honor." 

"The  young  man  bit  his  lips.  With  what  different 
conceptions  of  honor  he  had  come  to  court  1  What 
•different  ideas,  too,  of  the  one  whom  the  world  called 
the  greatest  of  kings,  whom  since  his  earliest  child- 
hood he  had  revered  as  the  finest  and  proudest  of  chiv- 
alry. 

"After  dinner,"  continued  de  Torcy,  finishing  his 
picture  with  rapid  strokes  of  the  pencil,  "the  king 
sometimes  receives  Monseigneur  alone,  and  at  the 
same  time  feeds  his  setters.  A  second  toilette  in  the 
presence  of  the  favorites  then  follows,  and  then — fine 
weather  or  foul — they  drive  oiit,  to  chase  a  stag  in  the 
park,  to  shoot,  or  to  look  at  the  different  buildings.- 
S'ometimes  His  Majesty  orders  a  promenade  with  the 


MirSeSi^ii'riaSiii!;.  ■.a'A 


H 


A  roval  robber 


ladies,  or  a  collation  in  the  woods   at  Marly  or  Foil' 
tainebleau." 

"And  his  family?"  asked  Gauthier  anxiously. 

"An  hour  after  the  return  belongs  to  them;  then 
comes  the  Montespan  or  Madame  de  Liidre,  in  whose 
apartments  the  rest  of  the  evening  is  passed." 

"And  supper?  "  } 

'  "Takes  place  about  ten  o'clock.  The  master  of  cere- 
mdnies  on  duty  then  appears  with  staff  in  hand,  ac- 
companied by  the  captain  of  the  guard,  who  has  kept 
watch  in  the  ante-chamber  of  the  lady  whom  the  king 
visits.  Only  the  captain,"  said  Torcy  proudly,  "is 
allowed  to  open  the  door  and  say  *Le  roi  est  served* 
A  quarter  of  an  hour  after,  the  king  comes  to  sup- 
per. During  this  quarter  of  an  hour  the  officers  of  the 
household  have  made  *les preis.^*' 

*'Les  prets?" 

"That  is  they  have  examined  the  bread,  the  salti 
the  plate,  the  napkins,  the  knives,  forks,  etc."  j 

"For  what  purpose?" 

"To  see  if  they  are  poisoned."  ; 

"Poisoned?"  repeated  the  youth  with  astonishment^ 
and  his  brow  darkened.  j 

"This  takes  place  at  the  dinner  also,"  said  his 
uncle.  "But  the  dishes  are  always  prepared  by  this 
rule:  under  surveillance  of  two  guards,  a  doorkeeper, 
one  of  the  first  chevaliers,  the  controller  general  and 
the  overseer  of  the  kitchen,  while  two  guards  must 
see  that  no  one  approaches  the  king's  food." 


fait»  i.....%^v.-  ...... .  ^,v.'^.':.-j^to.^:.^.w:ljfej-jfek'^ife^i&fei<iA!aAia 


^ 


•  A  DAY  FROM  THE  LIFE  OP  A  KING  35 

',■■■■■  ..-,,,,,« 

"Poor  king,"  sighed  Gauthier. 

"Why  poor  king?"  asked  Torcy  with  astonishment. 

"How  can  a  man  have  an  appetite    with    such    pre- 
cautions?" said  the  young  man. 

His  uncle    laughed    heartily     "  Ventre-saint-gris,—**  y 

said  he  merrily.  "You  can  be  at  rest  on  that  subject. 
His  Majesty  wields  an  admirable  blade  in  the  field 
and  at  the  table." 

"And  does  the  king  eat  alone  here  also?" 

"Yes,  and  the  court  stand  at  a  distance.  Six  nbble- 
man  serve  him.  The  princes  and  princesses  of  the  ., 
blood  may  now  seat  themselves  at  a  little  distance.  A 
circle  of  the  fairest  women  of  France  stand  behind 
them,  while  during  the  supper  soft  music,  sounding 
from  a  distance,  by  no  means  disturbs  conversation. 
After  the  king  has  taken  supper  in  this  manner,  he 
rises  and  with  "him,  of  course,  all  who  \yere  seated. 
Two  guards  and  a  doorkeeper  now  precede  him,  and 
he  enters  his  bedchamber.  Thereupon  begins  the 
*1)etit  coucher,''  to  which  the  'grandes*  and  'secandes 
entries^^  as  well  as  the  favorites,  remain." 

"Again,"   exclaimed  the  youth  with  astonishment. 

"Again,"  repeated  the  uncle,  "until  the  first  stroke 
of  midnight,  and  till  then  the  privilege  of  being  in  • 
the  presence  of  the  greatest  and  most  powerful  monarch 
of  the  world  is  made  the  most  of.  Requests  and  pe- 
titions are  presented,  flatteries  and  calumnies  uttered, 
marks  of  favor  sought  for,  and  enemies  overthrown. 
When  the  king  speaks  to  one  of  those  present,  all  the 


lb 


.rv"*  viz 


^;5f'v*.v,' 


■^^''^^ 


36 


A  ROYAL  ROBBER 


Others  withdraw.     The  clock   strikes,  the   ladies  bow 
low  and  retire,  and  the  king  goes  to  bed.** 

.  "Freedom  at  last  then. " 

"Not  so  fast.  The  valet  now  receives  His  Majesty's 
watch,  and  the  relics  which  he  always  wears  for  pro- 
tection against  daggers  and  poisons,  and  his  orders;  — 
two  chevaliers  then  unfasten  his  garters,  two  valets, 
one  on  each  side,  draw  off  his  small  clothes,  shoes,  and 
stockings,  two  pages  from  the  oldest  families  hand 
him  h?s  slippers.  At  that  moment  the  dauphin  ap- 
proaches and  offers  the  king  his  night  shirt,  which  the, 
master  of  the  wardrobe  has  warmed.     And  now — ** 

"Well?" 

"Now  comes  the  moment  for  the  greatest  favors. 

"Now?    I    should   think   the  tormented   man    would 
get  into  bed?"  j 

"The  monarch  now  selects  from  the  gentlemen  the 
fortunate  one  who  is  permitted  to  light  him  to  bed 
with  the  well-known  silver  candlesticks  and  two 
lighted  candles.  The  doorkeeper  calls:  'Retire, 
gentlemen.'  Those  present  withdraw,  the  favored  one 
precedes  the  king  with  the  lights  and  the  king  goes  to 
bed,  the  royal  physician  then  inquires  concerning  His 
Majesty's  health  and  one  day  of  the  king' s  life  is  over* " 

"And  this  is  repeated  daily?"  asked  the  youth  de- 
spondently. 

"Daily,  one  is  like  another,"  replied  Captain  de  Torcy. 

"Then,"  exclaimed  the  youth  with  a  sad  smile — then  I 
I  would  not  wish  to  be  a  king  1" 
-  .    -    I  \  i  '      ■  ■■ 


^r^'^2':'^'  \ 


CHAPTER  IV. 


NEG  PLURIBUS   IMPAR. 


At  this  moment  the  folding  doors  opened,  and  the 
king  came  into  the  gallery.  Every  head  was  immedi- 
ately barred,  the  ladies  curtsied  deeply,  the  gentlemen 
bowed  almost  to  the  ground.  Louis,  his  covered  head 
proudly  raised,  advanced  gravely  and  solemnly.  He 
no  longer  wore  the  dress  overloaded  with  gold  and 
precious  stones,  which  had  adorned  him  in  the  audience 
at  which  he  received  the  Persian  ambassadors,  but  in- 
stead a  plain,  blue  frock  coat — the  blue  coat  which  has 
become  historical.  For  in  order,  according  to  his 
opinion,  to  reward  personal  services  rendered  to  him, 
Louis  XIV  had  instituted  a  strange  privilege  at  his 
court;  this  privilege  consisted  in  the  distinction  of 
being  allowed  to  wear  a  blue  frock  coat)  such  as  the 
king  himself  wore.  The  permission  was  conferred  by 
a  diploma,,  and  was  the  more  sought,  because  those 
who  wore  the  blue  coat  had  the  right  to  accompany 
the  king  to  the  chase  and  in  his  promenades.  But 
what  services  were  sometimes  rewarded  by  this  privi- 
lege? Cond^,  the  victor  of  Rocroy,  Sens  and  Nord- 
linger,  begged  for  this  favor.  He  received  it;  but  not 
because  he  had  won  four   great    battles,  and  was  vic- 

8? 


■-.;i^:Aai!i:.&^ii^ 


■'  ■<r:'JSi:^S:^iiiik'.-. 


38  A   ROYAL   ROBBER 


torious  in  twenty  smaller  engagements,  but  because  he 
*  had  humbly  waited    upon    the    king,  with  his  napkin 
over  his  arm,  on  the  canal  at  Fontainebleau!*       J 

The  king  now  approached  de  Torcy.  The  uncle  pre- 
sented  his  nephew  to  the  monarch,  he  had  wisely  first 
obtained  a  position  for  him  in  the  body-guard.  The 
king  graciously  exchanged  a  few  words  with  both; 
then  passed  on,  and  after  a  few  similar  presentations 
which  lasted  for  a  moment,  disappeared  within  the 
doors  leading  to  the  Royal  chapel.  Fame  is  a  strange 
thing.  This  was  nowhere  more  true  than  at  the  court 
of  Louis  XIV,  whom  flatterers  called  the  "Great. "  Did 
not  the  whole  court,  princes  and  j)rincesses  at  its 
head,  bow  before  the  king's  mistresses?  Did  not  the 
queen  even  ride  in  the  same  carriage  with  la  Valliere 
and  Madame  de  Montespan,  till  at  last  the  people 
shouted,  "We  want  to  see  the  ^Aree  queens?"  Did 
not  the  queen  consider  herself  fortunate  if  she  was 
received  and  invited  to  play  cards  by  Mme.  de  Mon- 
tespan, who  retained  her  home  toilette.  Were  not  the 
Montespan' s  six  children;  the  Due  de  Maine,  the 
Comte  de  Vexin,  the  Mademoiselles  de  Nantes,  Tour, 
and  Blois,  and  the  Comte  de  Toulouse,  made  legiti- 
mate, in  defiance  of  the  French  laws,  and  did  not  the 
whole  court  treat  them  as  princes  and  princesses  of 
the  royal  family?  Did  not  the  Marquis  deVillei-ceaux 
offer  to  win  his  nieces  for  the  king,  and  were  not  these 
nieces  sorely    disappointed    because  the  king  refused 

*   Louis  XIV  and  his  Century,  iv.  186. 


A^^jj^iA^riiii^iSS&'t, 


•s"»r 


"NEC  PLURIBUS  JNPAR"  ^ 

the  proposal?     These   were   the   ideas   of  honor  and 
greatness  at  the  Court  of  Louis  XIV! 

To  the  credit  of  Gauthier  it  must  be  said,  that  his 
heart  and  mind  were  still  free  from  these  sad  errors. 

The  inexperienced  young  Frenchman  was  overpowered 
by  the  intoxication  of  fame,  and  glory  which  the  na- 
tion drew  from  the  bewildering  appearance  of  the  king. 
Gauthier  was  young,  warm  blooded,  and  ambitious, 
like  every  Frenchman — how  could  this  tete-d-tUe  with 
the  most  powerful  monarch  of  his  time  fail  to  excite 
him?  His  face  glowed -with  color— his  eyes  sparkled; 
resolution  beamed  from  his  features — while  within 
him  a  voice  cried:  "To  be  sure,  I  stand  alone,  and 
walk  without  fame  among  men;  but  cannot  one  who 
is  a  perfect  man  do  more  than  hundreds  who  are  only 
parts  of  men? "  And  with  an  air  of  boldness  and  de- 
termination he  assured  his  uncle,  that  no  aim  should 
be  too  high  for  him  to  strive  after! 

At  this  the  captain  smilingly  stroked  his  beard. 
Ventre-saint-grisrhe  exclaimed, — "you  are  right;  I 
like  to  see  such  a  spirit  in  youths,  though. . .  there  is 
flevertheless  a  but." 

"A  but?'   asked  Gauthier, 

"Yes!  and  when  we  have  left  the  palace  and  are  sit- 
ting over  a  bottle  of  wine  in  the  wine-room  at  the 
'Cardinal  Richelieu' j — lam  not  on  duty  to-day; -r-I  will 
make  this  'but'  clear  to  you  by  a  little  story  of  the 
past,  or  have  you  already  heard  in  your  ancestral  rat- 
nest  at   Limagne  of  the    king's    device     'nee pluribus 


A   ROYAL   ROBBER 


itnparf  and  the  fate  of  the  minister  Fouquet?*    | 

"In  our  quiet  little  ancestral  castle,**  answered  the 
**youth  smiling,  though  with  a  significant  emphasis, 
there  are  certainly  many  rats,  but  they  have  never 
told  me  anything  of  the  device    *nec  plurihus  imj>arj" 

"Well,  come  along  then,  my  lad,**  exclaimed  the 
captain,  much  pleased.  **To-day  is  your  day  of  honor, 
and  while  we  are  sitting  over  our  wine,  you  shall  hear 
the  story,  which  must  serve  as  a  warning  for  your 
whole  life.**  '.  i 

Half  an  hour  after,  the  two  were  sitting  at  a  large 
oaken  table  in  the  drinking  room  of  the  "Cardinal 
Richelieu"  with  an  enormous  bottle  of  wine  before 
them.  The  captain  filled  a  glass,  emptied  it  to 
Gauthier's  health,  and  then  commenced.  | 

"Now  attention,  young  manl  We  are  alone,  and  so 
you  shall  hear  the  story  of  *nec pluribus  imparP**  as  a 
warning!  The  omnipotent  minister  of  Louis  XIV, 
Cardinal  Mazarin,  died.  As  soon  as  the  king  received 
the  news,  he  summoned  the  men  who  had  been  recom- 
mended to  him  by  Mazarin  as  his  successors,  iLe 
Tellier  Lyonne  and  Fouquet,  and  told  them  that 
from  this  time  he  would  reign  himself.**  | 

"I  like  that  in  the  king,"  exclaimed  Gauthierien- 
thusiastically,  "whoever  wishes  fame  in  this  world 
must  stand  upon  his  own  feet.**  I 

"Yes,**  added  the  captain, — "and  firmly  too,  that!  he 
may  not  fall  at  the  first  storm.  But  now  do  not  inter- 
rupt me,  if  I  am  to  tell  the  stoiy.** 


•'NEC   PLURIBUS    IMPAR" 


41 


"I  will  be  silent.  " 

"Very  well,"  said  the  captain,  emptied  another 
^lass,  and  continued:  "The  men  recommended  by  the 
cardinal  were  wise — Fouquet  was  an  excellent  minis- 
ter of  finance  who  always  knew  how  to  open  new 
sources  of  supply  under  the  most  untoward  circum- 
stances." 

"You  jest,  uncle!"  exclaimed  Gauthier  merrily,  for- 
getting his  newly  made  promise.  "A  Louis  XIV  can- 
aot  be  in  want  of  money?" 

"Ventre  saint  grisT  exclaimed  the  captain,  "not  the 
king,  but  the  country!" 

"But  this  splendid  court?" 

"Young  man!  all  that  only  glitters  on  the  surface. 
You  will  soon  learn  the  proverb,  'all  is  not  gold  that 
glitters!'" 

"But  France,  France,"  cried  the  youth,  "its  re- 
sources must  still  be  inexhaustible. " 

"Yes,"  said  the  captain  gloomily,  "if  the  good  Car- 
dinal Mazarin  had  not  been  its  leech  for  twenty  years. " 

"The  great  Mazarin?"  ' 

"Oh!  innocence!"  exclaimed  M.  de  Torcy,  with  an 
ironical  laugh,  "the  great  Cardinal  Mazarin  was  a 
great  rascal.  To  satisfy  his  ambition  Mazarin  betrayed 
France,  to  satisfy  his  avarice  he  ruined  it.  He  left 
fifty  millions  at  his  death,  and  he  had  burled  fifteen 
millions  in  addition." 

"But  uncle,"  whispered  Gauthier,  "I  thought  tho 
walls  had  ears  herel" 


^x 


\ 


'  .(jsp*  v-?  iS^yiSH-w  TIjp 


42 


A   ROYAL   ROBBER 


"Pah! "  exclaimed  the  captain,  "Mazarin  is  dead, 
the  king  hated  him,  and  the  country  curses  him!  But 
we  have  wandered  from  Fouquet  again.  Fouquet  was 
an  able  financier;  he  had  an  admirable  intellect,  was 
considered  an  excellent  jurist,  was  finely  educated,  and 
of  noble  manners.  He  also  understood  how  to  listen 
and  to  reply,  two  qualities  one  seldom  meets  in  a  min- 
ister. He  knew  how  to  answer  people  who  came  beg- 
ging so  pleasantly  that  he  could  dismiss  them  almost 
satisfied,  without  opening  his  own  or  the  state  treas- 
ury. Generous  towards  scholars  whom  he  knew  how 
to  criticise  and  reward  according  to  their  deserts,  he 
was  the  friend  of  Racine,  La  Fontaine  arid  Moli^re,  the 
Macacnas  of  Lebrun  and  le  Notre.  Unfortunately, 
Fouquet  flattered  himself  that  he  could  lead  the  young 
king  as  Mazarin  had  done,  while  at  the  same  time,  he 
would  diminish  his  work,  care  for  his  pleasures,  and 
help  him  in  his  love  affairs.  See,  my  lad,  this  was 
the  stumbling  block  of  his  ambition.  The  king  wanted 
no  second  Mazarin,  and  so  hatred  towards  Fouquet 
became  rooted  in  his  heart." 

The  captain  took  a  long  draught  and  then  continued. 
"But  Fouquet  suffered  not  only  from  the  hatred  of 
the  king,  but  also  from  the  envy  of  the  princes  and  the 
court,  for  he  was  enormously  rich  and  his  influence  in 
the  country  grew  from  day  to  day.  Then  the  unfort- 
unate idea  of  surprising  the  king  occurred  to  the  min- 
ister; he  would  exceed  the  little  festivals  at  Fontaine- 
bleau,  would  show   Louis  XIV   what  splendor,  taste. 


b^Qi^W.^:^}.^ 


Li'AtiL'Q'::itlni-:'::Lyi-liAiii:-,'^^  Sii 


"NEC  PLURIBUS   IMPAR"  43  •      -n 


;^ 


and  luxury  could  do.     So    Fouquet    invited    the  king 
and  his  whole  court  to  his  castle  of  Vaux." 

"Then  the  castle  of  Vaux  was  very  large  and  beau- 
tiful? "  asked  Gauthier. 

"Well,  young  man!"  said  the  captain,  "you  can  judge 
of  that  by  what  it  cost." 

"And  how  much  did  it  cost?" 
"It  cost  Fouquet  fifteen  million  livres. " 
"Fifteen    millions!"     exclaimed    the    youth,  staring 
with  astonishment. 

"Fifteen  millions,"  answered  the  captain  quietly. 
"The  king  went.  He  was  accompanied  by  a  company 
of  musketeerSf  under  command  of  Monsieur  d'Artag- 
nan.  The  court  followed,  as  all  were  invited  who 
could  make  claim  to  any  distinction.  La  Fontaine 
was  appointed  to  describe  the  festival,  Benserade  to 
celebrate  it  by  song.  A  prologue  was  to  be  recited  by 
Pelisson,  and  a  comedy  by  Moli^re  to  be  performed, 
for  Fouquet  discovered  the  talents  of  Moli^re  and  La 
Fontaine  before  Louis  XIV  did.  The  king  was  re- 
ceived at  the  gates  of  the  palace  by  its  owner.  He 
entered;  the  whole  court  followed  him.  In  a  moment 
the  magnificent  alleys,  the  lawn,  steps  and  windows 
were  covered  and  filled  by  young  nobles,  delic^e  and 
beautiful  women  and  maidens.  It  was  a  delightful 
panoirama — which  I  shall  never  forget,  for  I  was  with 
the  king's  escort — it  was  a  delightful  panorama  of  trees 
and  glistening  fountains;  a  charming,  sunny  horizon 
of  blooming,  flowery  life — as  one  of  the  poets  present 


I  rr  Itf  [fliiiirriTlitttMilliiitlifiliilimf  ^ 


44  ,  A   ROYAL   ROBBER 

said — and  yet  in  the  midst  of  all  this  joy,  a  great 
hatred,  a  great  revenge  brooded  in  the  rustling  of  the 
wind  which  moved  the  leaves.  If  Fouquet's  fall  had 
not  already  been  determined  upon  by  the  king,  thede~ 
cision  would  have  been  made  at  Vaux;  for  Louis  XIV, 
whose  deyice  is  'nee  pluribus  impar*,  could  not  brook 
that  a  man  of  lower  origin  should  outshine  hifn  .in 
splendor.  According  to  the  will  of  Louis  XIV  no  one 
in  the  whole  kingdom  must  dare  to  equal  him  in  splen- 
dor, fame  and  love.  As  there  is  only  one  sun  in 
heaven,  so  there  must  be  only  one  king* in  France. 
Ventre  saint  gris"  exclaimed  the  qaptain,  "there  His 
Majesty  was  right.     Long  live  Louis  XIV!"     j 

The  glasses  clinked,  and  uncle  and  nephew  drank 
to  the  king's  health.  - 

"And  Fouquet?"  asked  the  youth,  not  without  sym- 
pathy. 

"If  any  one  could  have  looked  into  the  monarch's 
heart, "  continued  Monsieur  de  Torcy,  "he  would  have 
read  fearful  wrath  towards  the  subject  who  dared  to 
receive  the  king  more  magnificently  than  the  king 
could  have  received  him  in  any  part  of  his  kingdom. 
The  king's  wrath  was  increased  by  other  aid;  the 
hatredffnd  envy  of  the  minister  Colbert  fanned  the 
monarch's  anger  as  a  breath  of  wind  kindles  a  flame. 

*'But  mark  further.  The  fountains  began  to  play. 
Fouquet  had  bought  and  destroyed  three  villages 
merely  to  enable  him  to  lead  the  water  from  a  cir- 
cuit of  five  miles,  into  the  marble  basins  of  the  castle 


^pi^s^'^^^'^^fSBfP^i^pa^^^fTss^ 


V  "NEC   PLURIBUS   IMPAR  45 

of  Yaux.  Every  one  was  enchanted,  carried  away 
with  delight.     The  king  ground  his  teeth. 

"At  the  appearance  of  the  first  star,  a  bell  sounded. 
All  the  water  ceased  to  play;  the  tritons,  the  dol- 
phins, the  gods  of  Olympus,  as  well  as  those  of  the 
sea,  the  nymphs  of  the  woods,  ceased  their  noisy  res- 
pirations; the  falling  waterdrops  once  more  disturbed 
the  clearness  of  the  surface,  and  then  followed  a  rest 
which  was  to  last  forever,  for  the  breath  of  the  king's 
anger  was  wafted  over  it.  One  enchantment  now  fol- 
lowed another." 

"Enchantment?"   asked  the  youth  holding  his  breath. 

"Yes!"  said  his  uncle,  "at  least  so  it  appeared.  We 
entered  the  castle,  covered  tables  came  down  from  the 
ceiling;  a  subterranean,  mysterious  music  was  heard, 
and  when  the  dessert  appeared,  the  company  were  more 
than  ever  delighted  by  a  movable  mountain  of  con- 
fectionary which— by  some  mechanism,  which  to  this 
day  I  cannot  comprehend — passed  from  one  guest  to 
another." 

Gauthier  stared,  but  the  captian  continued:  '  The 
king  now  allowed  Fouquet  to  show  him  the  apart- 
ments of  the  castle,  which  by  its  splendid  illumination 
rivaled  the  brightness  of  noonday.  Louis — and  that  is 
saying  a  great  deal— had  never  seen  anything  to  equal 
it.  He  perceived  pictures  from  a  master  hand  which 
he  did  not  know;  gardens,  the  work  of  a  man  who 
made  pictures  from  trees  and  flowers,  and  whose  name 
had  never  come  to  his  ear  till  now.  But  Fouquet  drew 


M 


46 


A  ROYAL  ROBBER 


the  king's  attention  to  all  this  in  hopes  to  excite  his 
admiration — to  impress  him  and  render  him  pliant,!.  .  . 
but.  .  .  the  thoughtless  man  only  aroused  the  envy  and 
hatred  of  the  monarch  more   and  more." 

"I  tremble  for  him!"  said  the  youth. 

"Learn  rather  from  this  imprudence  of  the  wisest 
man  in  France,  to  be  wiser  than  he!"  said  the  captain. 
"But  listen  to  the  rest.     Now  comes  the  point." 

"What  is  the  name  of  your  architect?"  asked  the 
king.  :     . 

"Levau,  Sire,"  replied  the  minister  of  finance.; 

"Your  painter?" 

"Lebrun." 

"Your  gardener?" 

'Le  Notre,  your  Majesty." 

"Louis  XIV  remembered  these  three  names,  at  that 
time  still  unknown  to  him,  now  so  celebrated,  and 
went  on.      He  was  dreaming  of  Versailles.  | 

"Then  came  the  moment  when  the  consequences  of 
a  too  great  and  bold  ambition  drew  the  lightning  of 
revenge  upon  the  head  of  the  unfortunate  man. 

"They  had  entered  a  magnificent,  broad  gallery — 
the  one  in  the  castle  which  we  were  in  to-day  is  copied 
from  it.  The  king — accidentally  looking  up  to  the 
ceiling — noticed  the  Fouquet  arms,  which  were  in  the 
four  corners;  a  squirrel  with  the  device  'Que  non  as- 
cendom.^     (Where  can  I  not  ascend?) 

"Louis  XIV  turned  pale.  An  angry  glance  shot 
from  his  eyes.  He  made  a  gesture  to  me,  and  ordered 


il'Sii! ,■.>--.  '£L:::^-i£^^': 


C«-V.*Jfst^.It»;.._#i..  ._^^-W.Cj**4t4fcji^ 


"NEC  PLURIBUS   IMPAR**  47 

me  to  call  Monsieur  d'Artagnan,  the  commander  of  the 
musketeers.  But  the  queen  mother  and  Mademoi- 
selle de  la  Valli^re,  then  the  favorite  ladylove  of  the 
king,  both  of  whom  were  close  behind  the  monarch, 
perceived  the  coming  storm.  They  separated  the  king 
from  the  ministre  in  some  clever  way,  and  begged  him 
so  earnestly  to  remember  the  ingratitude  which  would 
lie  in  repaying  such  a  grand  reception  by  such  a  course, 
that  Louis  deferred  his  revenge. 

"Fouquet  suspected  nothing.  The  court  noW  went 
to  the  theater  in  which  Moli^re's  'Les  Fcuheux'  was 
brought  out  for  the  first  time.  The  king  was  highly 
amused.  After  the  theater  there  were  fireworks,  and 
after  the  fireworks  a  ball.  Louis  XIV  himself  danced 
often  with  Mademoiselle  de  la  Valli^re,  who  beamed 
like  a  fairy  rose  in  the  fullness  of  her  beauty,  and  in 
the  thought  of  having  restrained  her  royal  lover  from 
an  unworthy  action  really  resembled  an  angel. 

"Yes,  yes!"  exclaimed  the  captain.  "Venire  saint 
^ris,  the  picture  of  the  charming  La  Valli^re,  and  the 
memories  of  my  youth  made  me  forget  the  rest  of  my 
story.  At  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  court  de- 
parted. Fouquet  accompanied  the  king  to  the  gates 
at  which  he  had  received  him.  'My  lord,'  said  the 
king  to  his  host  as  he  left  him,  'I  shall  never  dare  to 
invite  yon  to  be  my  guest  again;  you  would  be  too 
poorly  lodged,'  and  Louis  XIV  returned  to  Fontaine* 
bleau.  He  could  only  console  himself  for  the  hu- 
;|niliation    tp    yvhich    the      minister    had .  subjected 


LiLC:ffi.<£^i^ki^&l^»£.  ,       .....    '....li^ 


48 


A  ROYAL  ROBBER 


him,  Idv  the  firm  resolve  to  ruin  the  insolent  man.* 
"And  did  the  king    carry   out  this  resolve?"  asked 

the  young,  man  almost  breathless.  i 

"In  a  few  days  the  Bastille  lodged  another  unfortu- 
nate prisoner  to  die  in  solitary  confinement.  It  was — 
Fouquet."  ! 

The  captain  was  silent,  and  hastily  emptied  the  last 
beaker.     Gauthier,  too,  was  silent.  I 

"Come,  my  boy,"  said  the  captain  at  last,  as  he 
threw  the  money  for  the  wine  on  the  table,  "and  ob- 
serve two  things,  first,  that  a  strong  healthful  aspira- 
tion is  seemly  in  j'outh.  '  Without  this  aspiration  a 
man  is  a  coward,  and  a  despicable  nothing.  Second, 
that  precipitation  makes  flaws,  and  pride  comes  before 
a  fall.  'Nee  pluribus  impar'  is  the  king's  device, 
and  this  motto  perfectly  describes  him  and  his  charac- 
ter..   ■  ■  I    _ 

Gauthier  gazed  gloomily  into  vacancy.  "How  differ- 
ently I  pictured  many  things  at  this  court,"  he  said 
softly.. 

M.  de  Torcy  smiled.  "Ah!  my  lad!"  he  exclaimed, 
"you  will  find  many  things  in  life  different  from  what 
you  thought  them  to  be,"  and  "therewith  uncle  and 
nephew  left  the  drinking-room  of  the  "Cardinal  Rich- 
e/ieu." 


*ja.««^^^-^^  ...C>.i,i>x.^^'C.'lx_»i.^.^-.'3S:i^!^a^iki£:&&;^2Ull.£utt 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  MARQUISE  DE  MONTESPAN  AND  LQUVOIS. 

The  Maquise  de  Montespan,  Fran9oise  Athenais.  do 
Rochechouart — till  now  the  omnipotent  mistress  of 
King  Louis  XIV — sat  at  a  window  in  Marlj'  le  Roi, 
bowed  in  sorrow  and  lost  in  thought,  gazing  sadly  at 
the  setting  sun.  Was  she  thinking  of  the  past  .  .  .  . 
of  the  instability  and  decay  of  all  earthly  grandeur? 
Was  she  wondering  what  would  become  of  this  proud 
Marly  le  Roi  at  the  end  of  another  half  century? 

At  the  left  the  road  leads  toward  Versailles,  at  the 
right  lies  the  village  of  Marly,  which  stretches  out  to 
the  Belvedere,  while  the  base  of  the  triangle  is  bounded 
by  the  beautiful  wood  which  that  lovely  morning  more 
than  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago,  was  brought  hither 
fresh  and  full  grown  from  Compiegne.     The  pavilions 
of  the  twelve  signs   of  the  zodiac    were    connected  by 
magnificent    arbors    and    walks,    through  .which    the 
beams  of  the  sun  could  not  penetrate.     Nearest  to  the 
sun  (the    pavilion    of    the,  king)  were    those   for  the 
princes  of  the  royal    family    and    the    ministers;    the 
others  were  for  the  officers  of  the  court  and  persons  in- 
vited to  Marly.     The    frescoes    which    decorated  the 
walls  w^re  painted  by  the    njost  celebrated  artists  of 
4  49 


fc:At--r:  .  -  .^tA--li^,M 


/^H""i': 


•^1.-,     j^^  '■2WT>if^r'V'f^^s^^,^;;w^'!if)K^gif!^^^^^^^ 


50  A   ROYAL   ROBBER 

the  time  Louis  XIV  pictures  which  represented 
the  joys  of  the  immortal  inhabitants  of  Olym- 
pus, and  heightened  the  happiness  of  earthly  divini- 
ties. On  the  opposite  side,  was  the  great  fountain 
whose  stream  ascended  to  the  height  of  a  hundred  and 
fifty  feet.  Fouquet  languished  in  prison,  but  Louis 
XIV  had  learned  something  from  his  visit  to  Vaux. 
In  the  middle  of  the  triangle,  at  the  right  and  left  of 
the  king's  pavilion,  were  the  rooms  of  the  hundred 
Swiss  and  the  kitchen  and  apartments  for  the  number- 
less retinue.  Statues,  fountains,  parterres  of  flowers, 
and  cascades,  were  found  on  every  hand.  Louis  XIV, 
who  had  changed  the  simple  palace  of  Saint  Germain 
for  magnificent  Versailles,  the  sweet  illusions  of  youth 
for  the  ambitious  dreams  of  a  riper  age,  and  the 
delicate  La  Vallifere  for  the  proud  Montespan,  bega« 
one  day  to  be  wearied  of  the  world  a^nd  its  bustle, 
and  convinced  himself,  as  Saint  Simon  says,  that  he 
sometimes  longed  for  solitude.  The  buildings  with 
their  pure,  colossal  lines,  the  large  gardens  with  their 
stiff,  angular  paths  and  clipped  trees,  among  which  an 
army  of  courtiers,  pages  and  lackeys  incessantly 
wandered,  had  in  a  great  measure  lost  their  charms  for 
him,  since  the  lovely  Valliere  no  longer  enlivened 
them. 

On  the  day  when  the  king  awoke  for  the  first  time 
full  of  these  thoughts,  the  usually  proud,  haughty  ex- 
pression of  his  face  was  softened  by  a  slight  touch  of 
sadness.     On  this  day  the  chase  was  countermanded, 

»*- ♦ 


l^^kMi^ii^^^^-'^^^^''' 


THE  MARQUISE  DE   MONTESPAN  AND  LOUVOIS  5I 

and  contrary  to  his  habit,  Louis  XI V  entered  his 
carriage  without  inviting  any  of  the~  beautiful  ladies, 
who  were  his  daily  escort.  Only  accompanied  by  some 
of  his  confidential  .friends^  he  left  Versailles,  after 
giving  directions  to  drive  to  the  most  sequestered  en- 
virons of  Paris.  The  carriage  stopped  at  the  pleasant 
chain  of  hills  of  Liiciennes,  and  the  king  alighted. 
One  of  the  courtiers,  who  had  probably  been  made 
aware  of  the  intention  of  this  ride,  approached  and 
said  respectfully :  "Sire,  your  Majesty  would  scarcely 
find  a  better  position  for  the  erection  of  a  palace." 

"That  is  very  true,"  answered  the  king,  "but  it  is 
not  what  I  seek — I  have  already  spent  too  much  in 
building,  and  this  beautiful  situation  would  demand 
expenditures  which  would  be  ruinous.  We  will  go 
farther,  gentlemen.  Do  you  see  that  valley  with  the 
little  village  on  the  brow  of  the  hill?  Ah!  what  re- 
pose— how  quietly  life  must  flow  here!  I  feel  that 
this  place  would  satisfy  me!' 

"Sire,"  said  the  courtier,  "your  Majesty  has  not 
probably  noticed  that  this  valley  is  very  narrow,  and  on 
account  of  the  surrounding  hills,  entirely  without  a 
prospect,  at  the  same  time  the  approaches  are  so  rug- 
ged that  it  would  be  very  hard  to  reach  it." 

"All  of  which  I  seek!"  answered  Louis,  "I  wish  for 
a  place  where  it  is  impossible  to  build  anything  but 
a  hermitage,  which  I  may  occasionally  visit  in  order 
to  leave  the  world  and  the  court.  A  nothing  would 
satisfy  me.     What  is  the  name  of  this  village?" 


52 


A   ROYAL    ROBBER 


"Marly,  Sire." 

"Well,  gentlemen,  once  or  twice  a  year  we  will 
visit  the  hermitage  of  Marly  in  atonement  for  our  sins. " 

That  evening,  immediately  after  his  return  from  the 
drive,  the  king  sent  for  Mansard  and  commanded  him 
to  go  to  work  at  once  and  draw  up  the  plan  for  his 
hermitage.  But  this  hermitage  this — nothing — cost 
over  a  thousand  millions.  *! 

A  thousand  millions,  as  Saint  Simon  says,  to  beau- 
tify the  refuge  of  snakes,  toads,  and  frogs,  and  make  it  ' 
accessible  to  the  distinguished  world.     But  what  is  a 
thousand  millions  to  the  caprice  of  a  king!  i 

The  Marquise  de  Montespan  sat  bowed  in  sorrow 
and  lost  in  thought  at  one  of  the  windows  of  Marly 
de  Roi.  gazing  sadly  at  the  setting  sun.  Was  she 
thinking  of  the  past— of  the  instability  and  decay  of" 
all  earthly  grandeur,  or  was  it  the  sad  change  which 
now  threatened  her  own  fate,  that  occupied  her  thoughts? 
The  glory  of  the  gentle,  affectionate  La  Valliere,  so 
passionately  loved  by  the  king,  had  faded.  Louis  XIV 
had  wearied  of  her  likewise,  and  sent  the  mother  of 
his  children — Maria  de  Bourbon  and  the  Comte  de 
Vermandis — in  the  thirtieth  year  of  her  age  to  the 
cloister  of  the  Carmelites  in  the  suburb  of  Saint  Ger- 
main, where  the  poor,  loving  heart  of  Sister  Louise 
de  la  Misericorde  was  now  slowly  bleeding.  ; 

Did  not  such  a  fate  now  stand  before  the  Marquise 
de  Montespan,  notwithstanding  her  six  children, 
who    shone    at    the    court  of    Versailles    as    legiti- 


4 


.  Stt^&Si:^^^^^ 


^i.,^:.nii^..-.k  ---T:.  •■<:■  \-_:^,  Vt^i.^^.^e^4^^i^^S^irf?■e^;;fc^■l■';=g;<g.;>^i|•J^>- ■■     ,.^-,. 


THE  MARQUISE  DE  MONTESPAN  AND  LOUVOIS  53 

mate  princes  and  princesses?  The  marquise  was,  to 
be  sure,  thirty-nine  years  old,  but  these  years  had  not 
effaced  the  traces  of  her  once  exquisite  beauty,  and 
moreover  her  former  vigor  of  mind  still  remained,  but 
the  natural  merriment  and  joyousness  which  had  char- 
acterized Fran9oise,  when  she  was  introduced  to  the 
king  by  the  Duchesse  de  la  Valliere  had,  with  time,^ 
given  place  to  excessive  love  of  money,  moodiness, 
obstinacy,  and  desire  to  rule — attributes  which  grad- 
ually, without  her  knowledge,  made  her  wearisome  to 
the  king.  The  Duchesse  d'Orleans  had  lately  said 
"the  Montespan  is  a  living  devil,  but  so  droll  and 
amusing  that  time  does  not  hang  heavily  in  her  com- 
pany." 

The  most  perishable  thing  on  earth  is  the  favor  of 
kings  and  princes.  She  herself,  though  married  to  the 
Marquis  de  Montespan,  had  overthrown  La  Valliere, 
and  must  she  not  expect  her  own  fall,  for  Louis  XIV, 
the  most  glowing  and  passionate,  but  also  the  most 
inconstant  of  lovers,  began  to  neglect  her. 

She  felt  only  too  well  that  her  influence  was  de- 
creasing, that  the  sun  of  her  happiness,  like  the  earthly 
sun,  was  sinking.  But  she  could  not  bear  the  thought 
of  parting  with  her  power,  of  stepping  back  from  the 
dizzy  height  of  a  mistress  of  Louis  XIV.  The  vic- 
tories of  Madame  de  Soubise  and  Madame  de  Ludre 
did  not  annoy  her.  The  marquise  had  long  been  ac- 
customed to  occasional,  passing  unfaithfulness,  in  her 
royal  lover.  And  the  shoit  reign  of  Madame  de  Soubise 


A  ROYAL  ROBBER 


had  already  reached  its  end.  A  petty  court  scandal— - 
such  as  at  that  time  often  occurred — had  soon  shattered 
it.  One  evening  the  queen  awaited  her  husband  at  an 
appointed  hour  in  vain.  Very  uneasy  at  his  non-ap-^ 
pearance,  she  sent  everywhere  in  the  palace  and  the 
city  for  His  Majesty,  but  in  vain.  His  Majesty  was 
not  found  till  the  next  morning.  This  insult  to  the 
queen  made  a  great  sensation.  Everyone  was  talking 
about  it;  Madame  de  Soubise  among  others.  The 
latter  even  went  further,  and  in  the  presence  of  the 
queen,  mentioned  a  lady  with  whom  the  interview  had 
taken  place.  The  queen,  who  was  very  indignant^ 
told  His  Majesty  the  name.  Louis  denied  it,  the 
queen  assured  him  that  she  had  been  well  informed,  as 
Madame  de  Soubise  had  told  her.  j 

"Well  then,  if  that  is  the  case,"  answered  His 
Majesty  quietly,  "I  will  tell  you  with  whom  I  was.; 
No  other  than  Madame  de  Soubise  herself.  If  I  wish 
to  speak  to  her,  I  place  a  diamond  ring  on  my  little 
finger;  if  she  will  permit  it  she  puts  on  emerald  ear- 
rings." In  consequence  of  this  petty  court  scandal 
Madame  de  Soubise  was  dismissed. 

From  her,  therefore,  the  marquise  had  nothing  fur-i 
ther  to  fear,  and  equally  little  from  Madame  de  Liidre,! 
who  was  now  in  favor.  She  possessed  beauty,  butj 
neither  intellect  nor  the  talent  to  fascinate  perma-l 
nently.  | 

Very  different  would  be  the  case  if  chance,  or  any! 
intrigue,  should  throw  into  the  hands  of  Louis  XIV  a 


&^  mi:^Vk,m 


^'W.'^r  '  5SS^'«|^SE^|^S«?p\'««.sisE^^i? 


THE  MARQUISE  DE  MONTESPAN  AND  LQUVOIS  55 

woman  who  understood  how  to  fasten  the  king  to  her- 
self by  strong  bands,  and  to  rule  him  by  her  intellect  and 
wit.  In  such  a  case  the  marquise  would  be  lost,  and 
it  would  be  but  too  easily  with  her  as  with  those  whom 
she  had  overthrown;  the  gloomy  walls  of  a  cloister 
might  yet  be  her  living  grave.  It  is  no  trifle  to  lay 
down  a  scepter.  One  who  is  accustomed  to  rule  can- 
not so  easily  step  down  into  the  obscurity  of  common 
life — the  grave  of  oblivion. 

And  then — was  not  Louvois,  the  ambitious  minister, 
secretly  working  to  accomplish  her  fall,  because  he 
wished  to  rule  the  king  alone?  True,  no  one  as  yet 
ruled  Louis  XIV,  but  many  were  constantly  striving 
to  attain  this  end :  the  marquise,  Madame  de  Ludre, 
Louvois  and  the  Due  de  Saint  Aignan,  the  king's 
favorite.  And  had  not  the  crafty  Louvois  partially 
obtained  control  over  the  king? 

Fran9ois  Michel  le  Tellier,  Marquis  de  Louvois,  the 
son  of  Chancellor  le  Tellier,  was  in  his  youth  so  com- 
pletely given  up  to  the  gratification  of  his  passions 
and  dissipation,  that  his  bwn  father  considered  him 
incapable  of  entering  upon  public  life  with  success. 
But  Louvois  reflected  upon  his  position,  and  unex- 
pectedly developed  the  most  distinguished  talents.  It 
was  one  of  those  many  changes  which  often  occur  in 
prominent  persons.  The  faults  of  youth  had  passed — 
in  their  stead  appeared  an  unbounded  desire  for  fame 
and  respect  And  he  had,  in  truth,  the  talents  to  at- 
tain them.     To  the  most    intense    activity  and  a  fine 

,  __ ; —  ,  -   _    »  —  i  . 


,£ 


p»^-;<Hi^^gp^  wtiHppfeii; 


56 


A  ROYAL  R06B£:& 


memory  were  added  even  when  a  youth,  and  much 
more  when  the  man  approached  maturity,  a  quick 
glance,  a  piercing  sagacity,  and  a  firm  will.  But  this 
will  was  only  the  effluence  of  a  still  greater  ambition, 
and  to  it  he  sacrificed  everything;  the  happiness  of 
millions,  his  honor,  and  even  himself. 

So  lolig  as  Louis  XIV  held  the  rudder  of  state  with 
an  iron  hand,  the  young  secretary  of  state  did  not  dare 
to  overstep  the  bounds  of  a  pupil;  but  the  crafty  man 
knew  how  to  gain  the  full   confidence   of  his  monarch 
by  wise    counsels,  mostly    advantageous    to    himself, 
though  retaining  the  appearance    of  a  courtier.     He 
felt  that  the  talent  of    a    general    rested    in  him;   he 
perceived  that  the  king  was  his   as    soon  as  he  could 
involve  him  in  a    continued    war.     Thus  the  Marquis 
de  Louvois  knew  how  to  gradually  exjtend   his  power 
over  the  army  and    its    ruler.     Good   fortune  and  the 
will  of  Louis  XIV  made  him   minister  of  war,  which 
was  what  the  ambitious  man  had  in  view.     Into  every 
department  of  militiary  affairs'  Louvois  now  brought 
order  and  unity.     The    wise  '  Colbert  ,  had    saved    the 
state    treasury    millions,    Louvois    gave    France     the 
largest  and  best  arm5\     He  was  certain  of  victory,  the 
power  of  Louis  and    the    pride    of   the    whole    nation 
would  be  flattered.     Two  campaigns  in   Flanders   and 
France*s  Comt^,  gave  the  signal  for  a  series  of  bloody 
combats,  which  soon  made  the  French  name  univerj* 
sally  feared.     France  was  victorious    in    both   cases; 
Louvois  had  the  means  ready,  and   his  influence  witl^ 


j:  :£sr^d'£;d^'!i^i.uj4c:;»^Jlj.^^3. 


r -raew^jjr-- 


THE  MARQUISE  PE  MONTESPAN  AND  LOUVOIS 


57 


the  king  increased.  The  minister  had  craftily  calcu- 
lated that  these  two  years  of  war  would  be  the  pro- 
logue of  an  extended  struggle,  and  therefore  involved 
the  king  in  plans  from  which  he  could  not  easily 
recede,  especially  without  the  assistance  of  the  minis- 
ter of  war. 

From  this  moment  Louvois  was  necessary  to  Louis 
XIV.  A  new  war  with  the  States  of  Holland  followed. 

The  peace  of  Nymwegen,  dictated  by  Louis  XIV, 
ended  it  after  a  struggle  of  six  years,  during  which 
Louvois  had  led  France  to  the  summit  of  its  power^ 
and  almost  the  half  of  Europe  had  been  called  to 
arms.  What  mattered  it  that  thousands  were  beggared 
and  that  the  blooming  Pfalz — that  rich  and  beautiful 
garden  of  Germany — had  been  barbarously  desolated 
aftd  burnt,  and  changed  into  a  smoking  waste  dripping 
with  blood, 

Ujpon  Louvois  fell    the    curses    of    numberless  un- 

'>■ 

fortunates  for  if  one  could  pardon  the  severity 
with  which  the  marquis  had  treated  all  who  were  de- 
feated, still  the  ineffaceable  stigma  rested  upon  him, 
not  only  that  he  suffered  the  horrible  crimes,  but  even, 
with  inhuman  coldness  and  cruelty,  commanded  them 
in  the  Netherlands  at  Trier,  in  Savoy,  and  especially 
in  the  Pfalz.  The  Pfalz  should,  according  to  his 
shameful  policy,  be  changed  into  an  eternal  desert  and 
waste,  in  order  to  secure  the  boundaries  of  France 
against  Germany. 

Since  Louvois,  as  well    as    his  king,  mistook  false 


'•«" 


58 


'■'■"■^■^^.■^''n''^!!''i'mw^^P^^^^^^^T^^^'fWf^^^w^ 


A   ROYAL   ROBBER 


"v  • 


fame  for  the  true,  he  was  obliged  to  resort  to  con- 
temptible measures  to  serve  bad  ends,  and  justice,  laws, 
treaties  and  oaths,  appeared  to  him  as  trifles,  which 
a  great  ruler  might  trample  upon  at  pleasure.         j 

Such  was  the  situation  of  affairs  at  the  time  of  our 
story — the  time  at  which  the  star  of  the  Marquise  de 
Montespan  began  to  pale.  By  her  downfall  Louvois 
hoped  to  obtain  the  sole  command  of  the  king,  especi- 
ally as  the  latter  was  becoming  wearied  of  the  per- 
sonal control  of  the  helm  of  state,  and  preferred  to 
seek  rest  in  the  arms  of  a  beautiful  woman.  On  the 
one  side  a  war  had  commenced  between  the  Monte- 
span and  Louvois,  a  secret,  but  therefore  all  the  more 
bitter  one,  and  on  the  other  the  crafty  minister  was 
involving  the  ambitious  king  in  new  plans  against 
Germany  and  Alsace,  in  order  to  hold  him  firmly  and 
safely  in  his  hands  for  the  rest  of  his  life.  In  order 
to  hold  the  king  and  keep  him  dependant  upon  him, 
Louvois  had  persuaded  him  that  France  must  possess 
Alsace,  till  now  a  part  of  Germany.  The  safety  of 
the  kingdom  and  the  greatness  and  honor  of  the 
French  crown  required  it.  Let  the  upper  Rhine  once 
become  the  boundary  between  France  and  Germany, 
and  the  lower  Rhine  must  in  consequence  become  so 
too. 

Was  anything  more  required  to  awake  and  inflame 
the  ambition  of  a  prince  so  eager  to  acquire  territory 
as  Louis  XIV?  The  only  question  was;  how  this 
robbery  should  be  effected?     The  answer  to  it  was  not 


,.  >  Mj^i..^tiidjHll&iaMi»-j!^S!i»&s^SAsikil^akili&i 


THE  MARQUISE  DE  MONTESPAN  AND  LOUVOIS  59 

difficult  for  Louvois:   by    force,  but  under  the  appear- 
ance and  veil  of  justice. 

Louis  XIV  and  Louvois  soon  came  to  an  under- 
,standing,  and  the  minister  of  war  wept  to  work.  It 
was  in  this  very  apartment  at  Marly,  in  which  the 
Marquise  de  Montespan,  lost  in  sad  and  serious 
thoughts,  sat  watching  the  setting  sun,  that  Louis  XIV 
had  held  a  secret  council  with  Louvois  a  few  days  be- 
fore. 

The  king  and  the  minister  met  for'that  purpose  in 
His  Majesty's  pavilion.  They  were  alone,  Captain  de 
Torcy  guarded  the  door.  Louis,  with  his  head  covered, 
sat  upon  a  costly  seat,  Le  Tellier,  Marquis  de  Louvois, 
stood  with  uncovered  heads  a  little  on  one  side.  Eti- 
quette did  not  permit  the  ministers  to  sit  at  any  coun- 
cil at  which  Louis  was  present. 

"And  what  is  to  be  done  next?"  said  Louis  in  his 
slow,  sharply  accented  speech,  concealing  one  hand 
under  the  gold  brocade  vest,  and  fixing  his  piercing 
glance  upon  the  marquis,  who  stood  before  His 
Majesty  in  an  humble  attitude,  and  with  an  expression 
of  the  deepest  submission. 

"Sire,"  answered  Louvois  solemnly,  "I  am  sure  of 
my  cause." 

"And  you  think  the  hour  has  come,  marquis?"  asked 
the  king. 

"  "Yes,  your  Majesty,"  continued  the  minister,  "the 
fruit  is  ripe,  Louis  XIV,  whpm  the  world  justly  calls 
the  'great, '  Has  only  to  put  out  his  hand  for  it  to  fall. " 


^^Sisa.afefekiia&  aa, .  ^^•  ,,k>  j6f»ifTi4tga;a  ^.^-;i- •- ., 


w'.**J'Ufiff|;>*^|| 


60  A   ROYAL   ROBBER  j 

"And  the  German  Empire,  and  Spain?" 

"Were  never  weaker  than  now;  your  Majesty  is 
thoroughly  aware  of  the  discord  prevailing  in  Ger- 
many." 

"Yes,  yes,  we  know  it!"  said  the  king.  "We  know 
this  foolish  division  right  well,  and  truly  we  have  not 
failed  to  feed  the  envy  of  the  German  princes  towards 
their  emperor  by  bribery  and  diplomatic  arts.'      f 

"And  this  bribery  and  these  diplomatic  arts  have 
worked  excellently  everywhere,"  continued  Louvois,  in 
a  tone  of  bitter  scorn,  while  the  royal  smile  at  the 
same  time  found  a  faint  reflection  in  his  usually  stern, 
strong  features.  "At  every  step  which  he  may  attempt, 
the  hands  of  the  German  emperor  are  bound.  He  can- 
not reckon  with  safety  on  three  of  the  Imperial  princes. 
First  of  allSwabia  and  Bavaria  are  ours,  Brandenburg 
causes  him  anxiety,  and  Leopold  himself — " 

"Is  weak,"  exclaimed  the  king  with  a  proud  flash 
of  his  eyes."  Leopold  I,  is  born  to  be  a  good  father, 
but  not  an  emperor.  He  has  a  gentle,  mild,  indus- 
trious nature,  great  memory,  and  much  knowledge — 
but  not  the  unity  and  strength  of  character  required  by 
a  ruler. " 

"Sire,"  said  Le  Tellier,  with  a  low  bow,  "rulers  like 
Louis  XIV,  are  shining  and  flaming  'Flowers  of  Peru' 
in  the  garden  of  History.  It  requires  not  a  century, 
but  hundreds  of  centuries  to  produce  one." 

"You  are  a  flatterer,  marquis,"  said  the  king  well 
pleased,  "we  intend   indeed  to  do  honor  to  our  motto 


THE  MARQUISE  DE  MONTESPAN  AND  LOUVOIS  6l 

'nec  pluribus  impar.'  We  consider  the  moment  fav- 
orable to  the  carrying  out  of  our  great  plans  for  the 
/^  honor  and  fame  of  France.  The  impotency  of  Ger- 
many and  Spain  is  visible,  and  England  is  weakened 
by  the  foolish  quarrel  of  her  king  with  his  own  sub- 
jects. Well  then,  we  will  boldly  confront  this  divided, 
weakened  and  timorous  people.  First  of  all  we  will 
occupy  the  good  credulous  Germans  with  some  diplo- 
matic affair,  a  congress  perhaps.  Then,  while  they 
are  discussing  for  months  in  what  order  of  rank  the 
delegates  shall  sit  at  table  or  in  what  chairs  we 
will  act." 

"Sire!"  exclaimed  Louvois,  affecting  to  be  aston- 
ished at  the  king's  words,  to  which  he  had  himself  in 
a  former  consultation  given  the  impulse.  "Sire,  what 
an  excellent  thought!  Prove  to  the  world  by  its  exe- 
cution, that  a  great  monarch  has  not  to  question  tri- 
fling scruples  when  his  enlightened  mind  shows  him 
the  way  to  make  the  people  prosper." 

"Marquis!"  said  Louis  after  g.  few  moments  and  a 
cloud  darkened  his  brow,  "the  way  we  intend  to  take 
cannot  be  that  of  strict  justice." 

"The  welfare  of  the  state  is  the  justice  of  the  king," 
answered  Louvois  significantly. 

Again  there  was  a  short  pause,  then  the  king  re- 
peated slowly  and  with  a  sharp  emphasis,  "The  wel- 
fare of  the  state  is  the  justice  of  the  king!"  and 
Louis  bowed  his  head  with  joyous  assent,  then  a  beam- 
ing glance  met  the  minister  of  war,  and  the  king  said: 


fe«iyilfa>Mi»rt^hg4lfffillfl>ii^^  -   -        i!i.'-^^^..au:&S: '.yiriJk...Mi,..,- 


^^""f^  .  ',     "^'"i';^'*^i*^»tt78jp'Tr;^'5l^BWirfsi«'-^^^ 


62 


A   feOVAL   ROBBfeft 


"Marquis!  you  solicited  us  for  the  privilege  of  the 
coat;  we  graciously  grant  it  to  youj  the  decree  shall 
be  issued  to-morrow." 

"Your  Majesty,"  exclaimed  the  delighted  Louvois, 
and  bending  his  knee  before  the  king,  he  kissed  the 
monarch's  hand  with  overflowing  gratitude. 

"But,"  now  continued  Louis,  "we  must  at  least  have 
a  semblance  of  justice  in  the  eyes  of  the  world,  in 
order  to  tear  Alsace  from  the  German  Empire  and  in- 
corporate it  in  France." 

"Your  Majesty  has  the  best  army  Europe  can  pro- 
duce," said  Louvois. 

"Yes,"  answered  the  king,  "and  the  blessing  of  the 
church  is  also  something,  Alsace  must  become  Cath- 
olic again." 

"The  admiration  of  the  world  cannot  therefore  es- 
cape your  Majesty!"  continued  the  minister.  "Who- 
ever has  the  power  of  arms  and  the  church-  upon  his 
side  is  in  the  right  with  the  majority  of  people.  The 
broader  and  higher  claims  will  content  a  diplomatic 
sophist." 

"The  Westphalian  treaty,"  said  the  king  slowly, 
seeming  to  ponder  over  every  word  he  spoke,  "has, 
to  be  sure,  given  the  bishoprics  of  Metz,  Toul  and 
Verdun,  the  district  of  Hagenau,  and  the  sovereignty 
of  Pignerol,  the  Sundgan  and  Breisach  to  the  crown 
of  France,  with  the  condition,  however,  that 
the  bishops  of  Strassburg,  thecity  of  Strassburg  itself, 
the  ten  other   noted    imperial    cities   of   Alsace,  four 


^t,-v£!%.%ii^>l^.Mi^: 


i.^^t, "■"   .■■ -J- *■»..''•  ..■'■-••t.......>— ■rf<..fe-a;.«ita.3'«.B.»aLiaAij«m^ 


m^^^'i^^^^fv^.'Tr'fx^e'- 


THE  MARQUISE  DE  MONTESPAN  AND  LOUVOIS  63 

abbeys,  as  well  as  the  counts  and  gentlemen  of 
Lutzelstein,  Hanau,  Fleckenstein  and  Oberstein,  to- 
gether with  the  knights  of  the  empire,  should  remaio 
firm  in  their  allegiance  to  the  German  Empire.  The 
treaty  of  Nymwegen  has  made  no  change! " 

"Because  France  wisely  left   the  question  of  Alsace 

open,"  replied  Louvois  with  light  scorn.      "Your  Maj- 

*^sty's  penetration  had  the    present  day   then   in  view, 

as  before,  in  the  marriage  of  the  Spanish  Infanta,  hef 

inheritance."  ^^ 

"Hush,  marquis!"  said  the  king  with  a  cunning 
look  at  the  minister,  "hush,  betray  nothing  before  the 
time.  Procure  for  us  rather  a  plausible  pretence  of 
justice  under  which  we  could  incoporate  Alsace  into 
our  good  France. " 

"I  have  one  your  Majesty,"  answered    the  marquis. 

"Louvois!"  exclaimed  the  king  joyously.  "You  are 
a  man  of  the  pattern  we  like!" 

"Then  I  am  the  happiest  of  mortals." 

"But  the  pretext?" 

"It  is  as  good  as  the  right  itself.*' 

"Speak." 

"Well  then.  Sire,"  continued  the  marquis,  "as your 
Majesty  knows  the  weakness  of  the  German  and  Span- 
ish Empires,  the  dissensions  of  the  former,  and  the 
envy  of  the  German  princes  towards  their  emperor, 
which  has  been  excellently  nourished  bj'  bribery  and 
diplomatic  skill,  your  Majesty  will  not  be  obliged  to 
abstain    from    taking    unconditionally,    and   notwith- 


^'.ia£^£^^^llun;y.>!.„i>...  ...  ^^4.k.-i_  . 


64  A   ROYAL  ROBBER  i 

standing  the  treaty  of  Nymwegen,  all  places  and  re- 
gions of  the  German  and  Spanish  boundaries  which 
you  desire.  Your  Majesty  in  so  doing  will  be  entirely 
in  the  right,"  1       - 

"Excellent!  and  the  proof?"  I 

"I  have  intrusted  an  old  pettifogger  of  the  council 
of  Parliament,  Roland  Ravaulx  in  Metz,  with  the  dis- 
covery.  ! 

"We  are  curious.  "  ' 

"Ravaulx  by  my  direction,  rummaged  over  some 
old  documents,  and  discovered  that  much  land  which 
lies  far  and  wide  beyond  the  bishoprics  of  Metz,  Toul 
and  Verdun,  which  have  been  ceded  to  France— for- 
merly belonged  to  her."  I     ' 

A  crafty  smile  of  assent  passed  over  the  king's  features. 

"And  therefore^ "  continued  Louvois,  "are  included 
as  fiefs  of  the  same."  ! 

"Excellent,  marquis,  excellent!"  exclaimed  the 
king  joyously.  "Your  Ravaulx  may  reckon  upon  a 
princely  reward.  And  what  shall  we  call  this 
recovery  of  the  former  riglits,  and  the  seizure  of  the 
respective  cities  and  provinces?"  i 

"I  would  humbly  propose  to  your  Majesty,"  said 
the  minister  with  a  low  bow,  "to  call  this  righteous 
and  perfectly  lawful  recovery,  the  'Reunion.'"        \ 

"Reunion,"  repeated  Louis  with  a  gentle  inclina- 
tion of  the  head.  "Reunion!  yes,  that  is  good!  But 
how  shall  we  accomplish  this  'Reunion'  and  take 
legal  posession?** 


.1  ■»--i-«**  ■  -^.     ■  .  »•->. -  - ^  -- .'■■-. ...a-^--.'.^ ^-.^■.  .»i£j;:-^^,fr  A  linifiaiifiirttiiiiffiiifiiifeM^liiiiitfiM^ 


niB  MARQUISE  £>S  MONTESPAN  AND  LOUVCHS 


65 


"By  your  .Majesty's  sovereign  will.  Be  pleased. 
Sire,  to  accept  this  elaborate  plan,  which  I  herewith 
lay  at  the  feet  of  my  great  king.  ^  Separate  courts  of 
justice,  under  the  name  of  ^Chambers  de  Reunions*  will 
-  be  established,  which  will  hold  their  sessions  at  Metz 
and  Breisach."  '  " 

"And  these?" 

These  ^Chambers  de  Reunions*  led  by  Ravaulx,  will 
then  prove  to  the  world  that  eighty  of  our  fiefs  are 
iying  in  foreign  countries,  to  which  among  others,  be- 
long Hamburg,  Pont  a  Mousson,  Salm,  Saarburg, 
Saarbrucken,  Vaudemont,  Hagenau  and  Weissenburg, 
and  the  ten  Alsatian  imperial  cities— that  all  these  are 
dependencies  of  the  French  possessions." 

"Diable!"  cried  the  king,  "that  is  strong,  the  treaty 
of  Westphalia  reserves  most  of  them  to  the  German 
Empire!"  ' 

"If  your  Majesty  accepts  my  plan!"  answered  the 
.Marquis  de  Louvois,  bowing  respectfully,  "*The  Chant' 
bres  de  Rewiion^  and  your  Majesty's  humble  minister 
of  war  will  so  forcibly  impress  upon  the  world  the 
right  of  the  French  crown  to  these  dependencies,  that 
in  a  short  time  all  these  cities  will,  without  opposi- 
tion, sparkle  and  glisten  as  precious  brilliants  in  the 
crown  of  Louis  XIV." 

"And  if  the  inhabitants  deny  the  claim?" 

"Then  remember.  Sire,  that  you  possess  the  greatest, 
most  powerful,  and  bravest  army  that  Europe  has  to 
show. ". 

$    Robber 


"And  if  the  Emperor  and  Kingdom  and  those  con- 
cerned cry  out  against  us,  and  assail  our  throne  with 
complaints? "  i 

"Then  will  your  Majesty's  minister,  Colbert  de 
Croissy,  give  answer  to  the  bawlers  that  their  griev- 
ances are.no  cabinet  affairs,  but  a  matter  of  justice, 
therefore  fhey  must  not  turn  to  the  government,  but 
to  the  congress  at  Metz  and  Breisach, " — and  here  a 
truly  diabolical  mockery  beamed  from  Louvois'  ej^es, — 
"which  the  king  has  instituted  to  prove  to  his  neigh- 
bors that  he  wishes  to  do  no  one  an  injustice!"       i 

"Good,  very  good!"  said  Louis  with  great  satis- 
faction. "And  the  Duchy  of  Zweibrucken?  It  is  the 
property  of  the  king  of  Sweden." 

"Will  be  occupied  as  a  French  fief  by  your  Majesty's 
faithful  troops." 

"And  King  Charles  XI?" 

"Invite  him  to  appear  before  the  *Chamhres  de  JR&' 
tinions.*"' 

"He  will  not  come!"  | 

"Then  the}^  will  dispossess  him  of  his  Duchy." 

"And  the  king  of  Spain,  to  whom  the  Principality 
of  Chimay,  the  city  of  Cortryk,  and  the  Duchy  of  Lux- 
emburg belong?"  I 

"He,  too,  will  be  summoned  to  the  congress-^of 
course  will  not  appear  .  .  .  and  will  consequently 
be  deprived  of  his  possessions." 

"And  Sirassburg"  continued  the  king,  after  a  few 
moments,     "Upon  Strassburg,  this  pearl  of  the  Ger- 


_t_S.\«<«L^l£*4^^1* 


tHE  MARQUISE  DE  MONTESPAN  AND  LOUVOIS  67 

man  cities — this  important  possession  for  Emperor 
and  Empire — this  true  German  city,  which  is,  more- 
over, a  little  republic  in  itself — have  you  found  a 
claim  for  us  upon  this  Strassburg?  We  confess  that 
its  acquisition  appears  to  us  the  most  important  and 
desirable  of  the  whole  undertaking.** 

"Your  Majesty,"  answered  Louvois  shrugging  his 
shoulders,  "with  infinite  regret  I  must  confess:  even 
Ravaulxhas  n6t  found  the  slightest  claim  upon  Strass- 
burg." 

The  king  knit  his  brows  gloomily.  "Then  the  whole 
plan  is  worth  nothing,"  said  he  angrily,  "Strassburg, 
above  all,  must  belong  to  us.     It  is  our  will.** 

"And  it  will  belong  to  your  Majesty,"  added  the 
marquis  firmly  and  decidedly.  "Will  your  Majesty 
have  the  grace  to  entrust  to  me  the  incorporation  of 
this  beautiful  city  into  the  kingdom  of  the  great 
Louis?" 

"Be  it  so!"  enclaimed  the  king  rising.  "But  how 
to  begin?" 

"As  if  there  were  no  traitors,  no  bribery,  no  strata- 
gem," said  the  minister,  smiling  craftily. 

"Traitors?"  asked  the  king,  "who  are  they?* 

"Prince  Franz  Egon  of  Furstenburg,  bishop  of 
Strassburg!"  announced  Captain  deTorcy  at  this  mo- 
ment. 

Louis  XIV  looked  at  his  minister  with  astonish- 
ment. 

"We  commanded  that  this  private  council  in  Marly 


i -^. 


^•^>&^t-.^::-g,.  .Kk^'i^'.-r^^.T^.^^itifj:*-    ^'-'   _ 


le  Roi  should    be    held     secretly,"  said    he   angrily. 

"The  will  of  Louis  XIV  is  the  ^aw  of  the  world, "i 
replied  Louvois  with  a  low  bow.  ! 

"But  it  appears  to  have  no  restraining  power  for  our 
minister  of  war,"  answered  the    king  with  a  haught}^,! 

i 

angry  glance. 

"Your  Majesty/'  said  Louvois  quietly,  "to  open  a; 
locked  door  a  key  is  required!"  I 

The  king  started.  "I  understand,"  he  then  added, 
and  the  dark  clouds  on  his  brow  gave  way  to  a  crafty 
smile.  ! 

"And  Sire,  if  the  key  must  be  gilded?"  asked  Lou- 
vois forcing  his  hard  features  at  the  same  time  into 
a  sarcastic  smile. 

"Then  gild  it!"  exclaimed  the  king,  "provided  it  is 
the  right  key." 

"It  is,"  said  the  marquis. 

The  king  sat  down  again,  and  at  a  gesture  from  the 
minister,  M.  de  Torcy  admitted  the   German  prince, 
Franz  Egon  von    Fiirstenburg,  bishop    of  Strassburg, 
to  the  presence  of  His  Majesty,  the  king  of  France. 


.■^^^ii^iaiSS^j>^^iSL 


CHAPTER  VI. 


AN  INTRIGUE, 


The  day  was  dying.  The  last  beams  of  the  setting 
sun  steeped  the  walls  of  Marly  le  Roi  in  a  reddish, 
golden  light.  The  royal  hermitage  lay  in  a  strange 
magical  radiance  which  surrounded  with  its  glowing 
splendor  her  who  hitherto  had  ruled  France  like  a 
queen,  and  was  now  a  recluse  in  Marly  le  Ror. 

"My  day  is  fading  also! — so  sinks  my  sun,"  ex- 
claimed the  Marquise  de  Montespan,  as  the  door  of 
her  chamber  softly  opened  and  the  first  waiting-maid 
announced  the  Due  de  Saint  Aignan.  The  features  of 
the  marquise  expressed  astonishment.  What  had  Saint 
Aignan  to  do  with  one  who  was  threatened  with  the 
loss  of  the  royal  favor?  The  court  rendered  homage 
not  to  the  setting  but  to  the  rising  sun.  She  however 
admitted  the  nobleman.  He  came  in  with  the  chival- 
ric  manner  peculiar,  to  him,  and  greeted  her  with  a  re- 
spectful bow. 

"M.  le  Due,"  said  the  marquise  gravely,  "what  do 
you  seek  from  me?  Do  you  wish  to  take  leave  of  me, 
and  thereby  procure  the  pleasure  of  watching  the 
pangs  of  a  bleeding  heart?^" 


iiairiiflnimrlir^^lill 


70 


A  ROYAL  ROBBER 


^.ft 


"Noble  lady,"  answered  Saint  Aignan  with  a  second 
bow,  "you  do  not  know  me." 

"You  are  a  rou6,"  said  the  marquise  quietly, 

"There  you  are  rightl"  exclaimed  the  Due.  "But 
what  has  that  to  do  with  it?" 

"For  a  man  like  yourself,"  continued  Mme.  de 
Montespan  seriously,  "close  upon  the  edge  of  an 
abyss,  there  is  no  greater,  but,  also,  no  more  diabolical 
pleasure  than — to  venture  either  alone  or  with  others 
to  sound  the  gulf  of  wickedness  or  misery,  to  feel  its 
cold  breath  and  then — to  draw  back." 

"I  can  never  cease  to  admire  the  wit  and  penetration 
of  the  Marquise  de  Montespan,"  replied  the  Due, 
"even  though  I  might  complain  of  a  slight  injustice. 
It  is  true  that  this  approach  to  the  abycs  of  the  wicked 
can  delight  me — it  fills  me  with  a  diabolical  pleasure 
which  nothing  on  earth  can  equal — what  other  pleas- 
ures are  there  for  us?  But  enjoyment  of  the  misery 
of  others?  I  do  not  understand  what  you  can  mean, 
noble  lady!"  ! 

"Oh!"  cried  the  marquise  bitterly,  "what  innocence 
in  the  heart  of  a  Saint  Aignan!  It  will  create 
even  greater  delight  for  your  wicked  heart,  if  the 
victim  who  writhes  under  the  lion's  claws  herself  re- 
lates the  history  of  her  disgrace  and  suffering. 
Well  then,  M.  le  Due,  lookout  of  yonder  window!  There 
stands  my  fate  written  on  the  heavens  in  blood-red 
characters."  i     . 

"What  can  a  hand  accu&tomed  to  wield  the  scepter 


L«"*8Aiil;MSaEfcA.^.  '^^■ijbi>fc..Mt.7 


»,^.t.JL4I.3-i£=>.je.^itt&^..u£«&if;rfs^y^' 


fs«^??Ff5r:'^^-ss5wi?rt 


AN  INTRIGUE  71 

do?     Hold  your  position  firmly,  Madame  la  Marquise!** 

"This  too!"  exclaimed  the  marquise  bitterly,  "this 
thrust  also!  Go!  go!  M.  le  Due!  What  do  you  de- 
sire  of  me,  the  degraded  one?  Go  and  pay  your  ho- 
mage to  the  star  which  will  soon  rise  to  announce  the 
new  day!" 

"Marly  le  Roi  has  inclined  you  to  be  sad,  madame!" 
said  the  Due.      "Persuade   the    king  to  return  to  Ver-. 
sailles.     It  is  your  due,  as  the  most   beautiful  woman 
in  all  France,  to  reside  there." 

"It  is  ray  due?"  exclaimed  Mme.  de  Montespan  sor- 
rowfully. "Does  not  the  noble  Due,  who  is  always 
overflowing  with  witty  anecdotes,  know  th^  king's  re- 
ply to  the  Duchesse  de  la  Valliere?" 

"No,  madame,  to  my  shame  be  it  said — no,"  answered 
the  diplomatic  courtier. 

"Well  then — when  matters  had  gone  as  far  with 
la  Valliere  as  they  now  have  with  me,  she  spoke  of 
something  to  His  Majesty  which  was  her  due.  The 
king,  in  a  fit  of  temper,  which  he  often  has,  took  his 
little  Spanish  dog,  Malice,  threw  it  into  her  lap,  and 
said,   'Take  it,  madame,  that  is  your  due.'  " 

St.  Aignan  was  "also  silent  for  a  moment  and  it 
seemed  as  if  something  like  seriousness  shaded  the 
eternally  smiling  face.  Then  he  took  the  hand  of  the 
marquise   and  iinprinting  a    light    kiss    upon  it,    said: 

"Do  you  know  why  I  am  come?" 

"Well?" 

"To  avert  such  a  result,  and  we  shall  succeed  .  .  . 
if  we  go  hand  in  hand," 


iiii<iiffi|{i&if»flSniT'fgrir»yiTaiilV'e««>ii!a'T-f- rT    r.  r^      -i' -r  '  '  ._!3.^ijw:^£:>_  -  t^MiSi&i^i^a 


72  A   ROYAL  ROBBER 

"I  am  astonished!"  --  . 

"But  I  need  one  thing:  your  friendship.  Do  you 
know  what  friendship  means?  " 

"I  think  so."  ' 

"Do  you  know  the  story  about  Madame  de  Ram- 
bouillet?"  ,  I 

"Ah!  another  of  your  stories.  I  believe,  if  your 
father  lay  dying  in  your  arms,  you  would  have  a  lyit- 
ticism  or  anecdote  on  dying  ready.* 

"They  are  instructive,  dear  madame.  For  example, 
there  was  no  truer  friend  than  Madame  de  Rambouillet. 
Monsieur  Arnauld  d'Audilly  who  called  himself  a  'pro- 
fessor of  friendship'  once  offered  to  give  her  instruc- 
tions in  this  science,  and  began  with  the  question: 
'what  do  you  understand  by  friendship?*  *A  perfect 
subordination  of   my   own    interests    to    those  of  my 

friend!*    answered  Madame    de  Rambouillet.      'Then 

,   i 

would  you  consent,'  continued  Monsieur  d'Audilly,   *to 
suffer  a    great    loss    for    theiDenefit    of    one   of  ypur. 
friends?*  ' 

"'Not  only  for  one  of  my  friends,'  she  answered, 
'but  of  any  worthy  man.'  'If  you  know  so  much, 
madame,*  replied  d'Audilly,  'all  instruction  is  super- 
fluous, and  you  have  nothing  to  learn!*"  ' 

The  marquise  had  grown  rather  pale.  She  knew  at 
what  a  low  ebb  the  treasury  of  the  young  nobleman, 
who  was  extravagant  above  all  bounds,  usually  was, 
and  avarice  was  one  of  her  chief  faults.  But  Madame 
de  Molitespan  quickly  comprehended  that  an  alliance 


'  ^n-  ^'r-lt^7fa,Jfm'X'jk^,:$ll^.<a.  Laj 


AN  INTRIGUE 


73 


with  the  confidential  favorite  of  the  king  might  possi< 
biy  save  her  from  the  threatened  ruin.      Her  decision 
was  therefore  quickly  made.  Like  the  drowning  man, 
who  in  his  despair  grasps    at    every    means  of  rescue, 
she    seized    the    offered    hand   and  the    alliance — the 
word  "friendship"  she  naturally  omitted  in  her  thoughts 
— was  concluded.  ,  Both  saw  clearly  enough  what  each 
intended.     St  Aignan  was  striving  for  power  over  the 
king.     If  he  succeeded  in  securing  to  the  mistress  of 
Louis  XIV  her  position,  if  not    the  monarch's  heart, 
her  influence  would  be   strong   enough  to  support  him 
— whom  the  envy  and    intrigues   of    the    all-powerful 
Louvois  constantly  threatened.     He  therefore  promised 
to  risk    everything    to    overthrow    Madame  de  Liidre. 
In    return     Madame    de    Montespan    was    to    inform 
St.     Aignan     of      the     intrigues    of     Louvois.       The 
reciprocal  conditions    were    made    and    agreed  upon. 
Yet  each  of  them  hid  a  secret  desire  which  concerned 
their  especial  interest.   It  made  no  difference  that  both 
were  perfectly  aware  of  this  perfidy.     Perfidy,  or  act- 
ing with  diplomacy,  in  their  society  signified  the  same 
thing.     The  downfall  of    Madame    de  Liidre  was  not 
enough  for  the    marquise;   she    needed,  now   that  her 
fading  beauty  was  no  longer    sufficient  to  enchain  the 
king,  another  subject  for  the    heart    of  the  monarch. 
This  new  subject  must    neither  be    a  match  for  her  or 
the  king    while    she  must  on   the  contrary  be  and  re- 
main her  tool.     This  thought  was  the  fruit  of  to-day's 
painful  reflections.     If  she  were  once   in  condition  to 


;mM^M 


74 


A   ROYAL   ROBBER 


work  upon  the  king  by  a  new  mistress,  who  was  in- 
tellectually her  inferior,  she  would  have  no  further! 
need  of  St.  Aignan.  Madame  de  Montespan  was  al- 
ready thinking  how,  if  her  plan  succeeded,  she  would 
revenge  herself  upon  him  for  all  the  sacrifices  which 
the  present  alliance  demanded  of  her  avarice.  But  no 
eagle's  eye  is  as  sharp  as  the  inner  glance  of  a  courtierj 
when  it  is  necessary  to  penetrate  the  by-paths  of  an- 
other of  the  same  stamp.  St.  Aignan  knew  what  plans 
Madame  de  Montespan  was  brooding  over.  He  kiiew, 
because  in  her  position  he  would  have  thought  and 
done  the  same.  But  the  affair  could  also  serve  him, 
though  irf  exactly  the  contrary  manner,  to  the  fall  of 
the  marquise  and  his  sole  monarchy  over  the  king, 
possibly  even  to  the  overthrow  of  Louvois,  only  then 
the  new-found  mistress  of  the  king  must  be  his  crea- 
tion, and  not  that  of  the  marquise.  Still,  to  give 
Madame  de  Montespan  a  rival  was  difficult.  She 
must  therefore  assist  him.  But  let  the  new  one  be 
once  firmly  fixed  in  her  position,  and  the  old  one  could 
and  should  fall.  Close  calculations  are  everything  at 
court.  Here,  those  of  the  marquise  and  her  companion 
had  one  and  the  same  sum.  St  Aignan  knew  that  he 
should  hit  upon  the  right  tone  ...  he  therefore  re- 
signed his  own  aim  and  aided  the  marquise  to  give 
herself  a  rival  inferior  to  her  in  intellect.  Such  a 
delicate  attention  to  the  monarch  must,  moreover,  w^n 
his  favor  for  her  again. 

"And  the  passions  yet  be  affected  in  His  MajestyP 


Ir- 


sswv^iism' 


AS  INTRIGUB  75 


said  the  courtier,  with  a  frivolous  laiigh.  "The  pas- 
sions are  the  most  fearful  when  they  break  forth  in  a 
riper  age,  where  weakness  already  mingles  with  them. 
Then  to  them  is  added  the  sweet,  despairing  joy  of 
the  gambler  who- is  making  his  last  throw." 

"Hush,  hush!"  cried  the  marquise,  "when  you  give 
me  a  glimpse  of  your  soul,  a  chill    runs  through  iiie. " 

"Ho!  Ho!"  exclaimed  St.  Aignan  merrily,  "then, 
madame,  I  must  at  last  cure  you  by  Voiture's  method." 

"Oh!  dear,"  sighed  Mme.  de  Montespan,  "another 
of  his  stories!" 

"And  do  you  know  how  Voiture,  the  clever  friend 
of  Rambouillet,  cured  his  wife  of  fever?" 

The  marquise  shook  her  head  with  a  sigh;  her  whole 
soul  was  occupied  with  other  things,  and — this  incor- 
rigible man  tormented  her  with  his  anecdotes.  But 
she  needed  him!  ' 

St.  Aignan  did  not  allow  himself  to  be  disconcerted 

"Voiture  had  the  strangest  fancies  in  the  world," 
said  he,  stretching  himself  out  comfortably  in  his  arm- 
chair. "One  day,  •'"hen  Mme.  de  Rambouillet  had  a 
fever,  he  remembered  having  heard  that  sudden  great 
surprises  often  drove  away  such  attacks.  He  was  think- 
ing how  he  could  surprise  Madame  de  Rambouillet  in 
an  original  and  effective  manner,  when  he  perceived 
two  men  leading  bears.  'Excellent!'  thought  he,  'that 
is  what  I  am  looking  for.*  And  he  took  the  Savoyards 
and  their  animals  to  the  Hotel  Rambouillet.  The 
marquise  sat  near  the    fire,  surrounded  by  a    screen. 


76 


A  ROYAL  ROBBER 


Voiture  ^ame  softly  into  the  room,  put  two  chairs  d6- 
hind  the  screen,  and  made  his  actors  get  upon  them. 
Madame  de  Rambouillet  heard  a  snorting  sound  be- 
hind her,  turned,  and  saw  two  bear's  noses  over  her 
head.  She  thought  she  should  die  of  terror;  but  as 
Voiture  had  rightly  supposed,  the  fever  yielded  to  the 
fright.  However,  it  was  a  long  time  before  she  could 
pardon  Voiture  for  the  restoration  of  her  health.  iHe, 
on  his  part,  told  everywhere  that  it  was  the  finest  cure 
he  had  not  only  ever  made,  but  had  ever  seen  made." 

"Have  you  finished?"  asked  Madame  de  Montespan, 
awaking  from  a  deep  reverie. 

"I  have!"  replied  St.  Aignan,  "but  the  deuce — I  be- 
lieve you  have  not  heard  any  of  my  pretty  story,  "i 

"Yes,"  said  the  marquise,  "I  heard  something  about 
a  bear!"  4 

Her  companion  laughed,  and  then  said:  "Your  bear, 
however,  has  something  good,  he  has  probably  found 
the  honey  you  seek."  I 

"M.  leDuc, "  exclaimed  Madame  de  Montespan  sot' 
rowfully.  "You  know  my  heart  is  almost  bursting, 
and  you  do  not  cease  to  jest!"  '^  I       " 

"Because  the  thought  that  I  am  carrying  in  my 
pocket  what  you  vainly  seek  far  and  near,  makes  me 
merry."  And  putting  his  hand  in  his  breast-pocket, 
he  drew  from  it  a  miniature  which  he  held  before 
Madame  de  Montespan.  | 

"What  an  angel!"  exclaimed  the  latter.  "The  bust 
of  a  Venus  I" 


£ji&i:i9^^M<sia:S^¥sSSi^^^^, 


AN   INTRIGUE 


n 


*'Yes,"  said  St.  Aignan  with  the  glowing  eyes  of  a 
sensualist,  "beautiful  as  a  marble  statue  but  cold  as 
marble  also.  But  to  be  sure!  this  apperanceof  frigid- 
ness  charms  and  enchants  doubly,  like  the  singularity 
of  such  a  quantity  of  deep-red  hair!" 

"The  hair  is  wonderful!"  said  the  marquise,  "who 
could  deny  it  a  peculiar  charm!  what  delicac)' of  skin! 
what  a  sweet  expression  of  childish  innocence/" 

"Did  you  ever  see  anything  more  piquante?"  asked 
St.  Aignan  enthusifistically,  and  his  looks  almost  de- 
voured the  picture. 

"Only  one  thing  is  wanting!"  said  Madame  deMon- 
tespan,  "intellect!" 

^  "So  much  the  better!"  said  her  companion  with  a 
careless  smile,  "apparently  prudish,  without  the  exalt- 
ing but  often  annoying  wings  of  intellect,  this  won- 
derful girl  will  become  a  bond  which  you—  '*        . 

"Heavens!"  exclaimed  the  marquise,  "5'ou  believe?" 

"Madame,"  said  St.  Aignan  merrily,  "between  our- 
selves— I  believe  in  nothing.  But  I  am  firmly  convinced 
of  three  things:  firstly,  that  if  we  bring  this  young 
girl  to  court,  the  king  will  immediately  fall  desperately 
in  love  with  her;  secondly,  that  this  apparently  frigid 
beauty  is  a  woman,  and  like  all  others,  cannot  with- 
stand the  offers  of  a  Louis  XIV, -and  lastlj%  that  this 
beautiful  marble  bust  lacks  the  intellectual  element 
to  rule  the  king,  and  to  supplant  a  Marquise  de  Mon- 
tespari — the  most  intellectual  woman  in  France." 

"li  sh«  isaa  innocent  child,  as  it  appears  by  these 


-■^-r 


--«^v,' — '■'WSSf 


78  A  ROYAL  ROBBER  " 

-     .     :       \     ■  I 

features,"  said  Madame  de  Montespan,  "she  will 
shrink  from  a  man  who  has  lOved  so  many  and  crushed 
so  many  a  heart."  "  ! 

"Yes,  if  the  man  were  not  Louis  XIV  and  king  of 
F'rance!"  exclaimed  St.  Aignan.  "Trust  to  me,  I 
know  women!  With  them  love  is  always  the  cause  for 
a  perfect  absolution.  The  man  who  really  and  strongly 
loves  a  woman  can  commit  crimes,  and  she  will  still 
love  him."  !    ^ 

A  sigh  escaped  the  lips  of  the  marquise.  The  truth 
of  these  words  cut  too  deeply  into  her  soul.  Then 
she  asked  quickly:  "And  who  is  the  poor  innocent 
creature,  who  is  to  fall  a  victim  to  us  and  the  insati- 
ate ardor  of  the  king?"  [•        « 

St.  Aignan  laughed  mockingly.  "By  all  the  saints, 
I  should  not  have  expected  that  this  fatal  hermitage 
of  Marly  le  Roi  would  infect  even  the  Marquise  de 
Montespan  with  its  sentimentality.  What  do  you  care 
for  a  young  girl's  innocence  if  it  succeeds  in  retaining 
the  favor  of  the  king!"  I 

"Monsieur  leDuc!"  said  the  marquise  sadly,  "my 
soul  is  heavy  with  many  sins,-  but  you  are  even  worse 
than  I!"  i 

"And  you  are  divinely  naive!"  exclaimed  St.  Aignan 
laughing  and  kissing  her  hand.  "I  should  never  have 
thought  that  we  should  have  suited  each  other  so  well 
in, diplomatic  affairs.     I  could  tell  you — "  i  -^ 

"For  heaven's  sake,  do  not  tell  another  ancedote," 
cried  the  marquise  imploringly.  "Tell  me  rather  who 


Jiiiiiiiihri^lrtrfiititiniriitT"'"^^^ 


i 


^  AW  INTRIGUB  79 

IS    this  charming  little  red-head,   whose  picture  you 
have  just  shown  me." 

"She  is  the  most    innocent   soul   in  the  world!"  re- 
plied St.    Aignan,  "a   little   country  girl,    wondrously 
beautiful,  as  you  see,  dazzlingly  fair,  with  red  hair — ** 
.,     "Monsieur  le  Due!" 

"Slight,  with  deep  blue  eyes,  delicate  nose  and 
mouth,  dainty  hands  and  feet,  outwardly  cold,  and 
yet  full  of  secret  fire,  of  very  limited  intellect,  and 
what  especially  suits  us,  excessively  vain," 

"I  am  astonished!  "  said  the   lady^  "you  have  surely 
become  minister  of  the    police  of  the  kingdom,  sinCB 
.you  possess  such  a  detailed  description  of  your  beauty. 
But  you  have  forgotten  to  mention  her  name." 

"Our  beauty  is  called:  Marie  Angelina  Scoraille  de 
Rousillo,  Mademoiselle  de  FontangesP 

"Ah!    Fontanges!" 

"An  ancient  family  from  the  valley  of  the  Puy  de 
Dome,  and  connected  with  the  Montferrands  Mnd 
Torcys.  Poor  as  a  church  mouse — but  only  sixteen 
years  old." 

"So  she  is  still  a  child!**  said  the  marquise  com- 
passionately. "And  how  did  the  wolf  find  out  this 
poor  little  lamb?" 

"By  a  remarkable  coincidence!  "answered  the  noble- 
man, and  then  related  how  he  had  come  on  the  track 
of  this  charming  creature  through  Captain  de  Torcy, 
As  he  had  long  been  interested  in  the  fate  of  the  noble 
lady  whose  happy    influence    upon    the  king  was  just 


jfttraiYiiiiiiriilSmrrir-TfiTi  ^if  -  r 'urnr  i -ly'r^i^ii    ir    -a-    ..i':'^ 


irW^i^^. 


So 


A  ROYAL  ROBBER 


now  opposed  by  his  enemy,  Louvois,  the  first  glancs« 
at  this  picture  had  inspired  him  with  the  thoughts 
which  he  now,  in  connection  with  the  marquise,  stood 
'ready  to  carry  out.  Gauthier,  in  his  innocence  and 
enthusiasm  for  Angeline,  had  himself  given  the  Due, 
who  had  won  his  regard  by  his  courtesy  and  assurances 
of  friendship,  the  most  minute  particulars  about  Madd- 
raoiselle  de  Fontanges.  Of  course  he  had  not  said 
that  he  loved  the  young  girl,  but  this  did  not  escape 
a  man  of  the  world  like  St.  Aignan.  That  she  pos- 
sessed small  intellect  did  not,  of  course,  come  from 
Gauthier 's  lips — perhaps  he  was  not  even  aware  of  it 
— but  enchanted  by  the  Due's  flattering  confidences 
and  fiery  wine,  he  related  so  many  traits  of  her  dispo- 
sition and  character,  that  the  Due,  skilled  in  all  the 
infirmities  of  human  nature,  soon  recognized  the  true 
nature  of  the  enthusiastically  praised  lady.  Upon 
this  he.  built  his  plan,  and  this,  he  now  laid  before 
hi^'new  ally.  They  agreed  that  Mademoiselle  de 
Fontanges — the  quiet  blossom  of  charming  Limagnej 
the  gentle.  Innocent  child  from  the  paradisiacal  valleys 
of  the  AUier — should  play  into  the  hands  of  Madame 
de  Montespan.  The  nearest  pretext  for  this  was 
offered  by  the  distant  relationship  of  the  marquise,  as 
a  borri  Rochechouart,  to  the  Montferrands.  It  was 
only  necessary  that  Franfolse  Athenais  should  hint 
to  her  relatives  that  it  was  in  her  power  to  give  aj 
young  lady  a  position  at  court,  and  she  could  be  cer-  j 
tain  of  half  a  dozen  offers. 


^.i!isiM^;ii^^ii^is&i6&^ 


AN  INTRIGUE 


8l 


Was  there  at  that  time  any  higher  ideal  for  the 
country  nobility  than  the  court  of  Versailles?  And  was 
not  the  silent  affection  of  Gauthier  and  Angeline  the 

f 

best  thing  for  St.  Aignan  and  the  marquise?  The  in- 
nocent love  of  the  young  people  springing  up  in  secret, 
was  counted  upon  by  the  two  allies  as  a  lever  for  their 
intrigue.  St.  Aignan,  under  the  pretext  of  sincere 
friendship,  was  to  attach  Gauthier  more  and  more  to 
himself,  so  that  he  should  at  last  belong  entirely  to 
him.  False  love  letters  should  then  jBrst  fill  Angeline 
with  desires  for  her  absent  beloved  playmate,  then  for 
the  place  where  he  now  was,  and  at  last  for  the  court 
itself.  They  could  then  arouse  the  vanity  of  the  little 
one,  until  no  doubt  could  exist  of  a  happy  and  free 
acceptance  of  a  decided  summons  to  Paris  on  the  part 
of  Mademoiselle  de  Fontanges.  The  rest  was  com- 
mitted to  the  care  of  the  marquise  and  the  clever 
machinations  of  St  Aignan,  to  whom  as  a  friend  and 
especial  favorite  of  the  king,  it  must  be  a  trifle  to  lead 
the  monarch's  easily  moved  heart  to  the  desired  goal. 

The  Due  and  Marquise  were  now  agreed  on  their 
plans  and  only  the  latter  feared  as  often  as  she 
glanced  at  the  picture  of  the  beautiful  Fontanges  .  .  . 
that  this  pure,  angel  face  concealed  in  its  bosom  a 
iparbie.  heart.  The  Due  de  St.  Aignan  laughed  scorn- 
fully. 

"Ho  you  know,  madame,  how  this  conquest  will  be 
made  by  us  and  the  king?" 

"How?"  iisked  the  niarquise. 
6    Robber 


ii4aai^«fe<ifc^a;^;«i:-^a.»;j^^ 


■*^^     '■^^■^—TM 


B2 


A   ROYAL   ROBBER 


"Like  the   capture  of    Candia  by  Achmet   PacBa.* 
"And  how  did  that  proceed?"  j 

"When  Achmet  Pacha  landed  on  the  island  whicn 
then  belonged  to  the  Christians,  he  foretold  the  sub- 
sequent capture  by  a  smile.  He  threw  his  saber  into 
the  middle  of  a  broad  carpet,  and  said:  'Which  of 
you  will  take  my  sabre  without  stepping  on  the  car- 
pet?* As  the  sabre  lay  in  the  center,  and  could  in 
no  way  be  reached  with  the  hands,  all  present  de- 
clared it  impossible.  Then  Achmet  Pacha  began  to 
roll  up  the  carpet  till  he  came  to  the  saber,  so  that 
he  could  take  it  without  stepping  on  the  carpet;  seized 
it  and  cried:  'Thus  in  time  1  will  take  possession  of 
Candia,  foot  by  foot.*  "And,"  added  the  Due  gayly, 
rising,  "so  will  we  and  the  king  take  possession  of 
this  beautiful  marble  statue!"  | 

'  The  sun  had  long  since  set,  and  deep  night  lay  over 
the  earth,  when  St.  Aignan  and  the  marquise  sep- 
arated, i 


^jiiSBjIlxlJastii^ll^iiSiS^IS^&UaltcAlai^^ 


mMJ!''- mli'- 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  CONJURATION. 

It  was  "Friday"  ...  and  this  Friday  fell  on  "the 
thirteenth  of  the  month!"  The  day,  which  had  been 
very  warm,  was  declining  as  a  strangely  mixed  com- 
pany found  themselves  on  the  way  to  Saint  Denis  en 
France,  situated  on  the  Croult,  which  united  with  the 
Seine  at  a  little  distance,  in  those  days  a  small 
city  of  about  five  thousand  inhabitants.  The  holjf 
Dionysius,  who  preached  the  gospel  in  Gaul,  and  was 
nominally  the  first  Bishop  of  Paris,  by  his  martyr's 
death  converted  a  heathen,  who  buried  his  body  and 
built  a  chapel  over  the  grave  of  the  martyr.  This 
chapel  was  afterwards  enlarged,  and  in  the  year  636 
raised  to  an  abbey  by  Dagobert  I.  Pictures  of  the 
saint  and  Prankish  kings  decorated  the  inner  walls, 
and  the  bones  of  more  than  thirty  kings  and  queens, 
and  about  eighty  princes  and  princesses  rested  there. 
The  above  mentioned  party  were  going  towards  their* 
resting  place.  There  were  two  Savoyards,  of  whom 
the  older — a  fine-looking,  well-preserved  man — did  not 

*  Napoleon  had  the  church  rebuilt  and  decorated,  and  appointed  it  as  a 
resting  place  for  all  the  royal  family.  The  remains  of  the  old  kings  were  col- 
lected by  Louis  XVIII  and  buried  here:  but  the  protection  of  them  was  trans* 
ferred  to  the  newly  appointed  Domeperr  who  from  that  time  held  the  first 
rank  among  the  clergy  of  France. 


_a^Srf.CftE-*e-»l_. 


84 


ROYAL  ROBBER 


seem  to  feel  at  home  in  his  dress.  His  body  was  tod 
well  rounded  for  a  poor  Savoyard,  and  one  might  sweaf 
that  his  head  suited  a  distinguished  prelate  better  thaii 
that  of  a  man  of  the  people.  His  younger  companioii 
could  better  be  whai  he  appeared,  although  a  certain 
refinement,  blended  with  marked  carelessness  and  ease^ 
appeared  in  his  bearing.  He  was  moreover  a  handsomei 
man,  notwithstanding  his  wasted  features — and  pos- 
sessed an  unusually  bright  black  eye.  .  The  Savoyards 
did  not  travel  alone;  there  were  in  their  party  two  oldi 
discharged  soldiers,  while  in  the  rear  followed  a  negrq 
and  two  old  women,  the  first  of  whom  carried  a  strange 
apparatus,  partly  covered  with  a  cloth.  Still  the  ne- 
gro and  the  women  undoubtedly  belonged  to  the  Savoy- 
ards; for  where  the  iroad  was  quiet  and  lonely  onei 
could  see  the  younger  one  linger  behind  and  exchange! 
some  mysterious  words  with  one  of  the  women.  \ 

Night    soon   closed   in;     the    sultriness  which     had 
reigned  until  now  did  not  lessen,  but  rather  increased.! 
Not  a  leaf  stirred,  and  not   an  animal  was  to  be  seen,  i 
Storm    clouds  lay  on   the  distant    horizon  like  tired  I 
prostrate  giants.   The  wanderers  must  have  experienced  | 
a  painful  feeling  of    oppression,  for  not    one  of  them! 
spoke  a  word.     They  walked  silently  on,  only  now  and  j 
then  the  younger  Savoyard  urged  on  the  older  one,  to 
whom  the  walk    was    apparently    toilsome,  by  telling 
him  they  must  move  quickly,  in  order  to  arrive  at  St. 
Denis  before  the  closing  of  the  gates. 

It  was  already   dark   when   this   strange   company 


THE.  CONJURATIOil  85 


passed  through  the  gates  of  St.  Denis.  Here  they 
parted,  and — without  wasting  a  word^ — the  Savoyards, 
the  soldiers,  and  the  women  with  the  negro  struck  in- 
to different  paths.  But  many  different  paths  can  all 
lead  to  one  point.  After  the  lapse  of  a  short  half" 
hour,  the  party  met  again  in  an  insignificant  looking 
house,  which  stood  not  very  far  from  the  Abbey  of  St. 
Denis — that  huge  tomb  of  so  many  royal  sleepers. 

They  were  silently  greeted  by  the  owner  of  the 
little  house — the  sacristan  of  the  neighboring  church. 
He  bowed  very  low  to  the  two  Savoyards,  particu- 
larly to  the  elder.  No  light  burned  in  the  little  nar-: 
row  room — all  was  dark  as  night.  When  all  had  en- 
tered, the  younger  of  the  Savoyards  said  in  the  purest 
French  to  the  gray-headed  old  sacristan,  who  stood 
timidly  in  one  corner  of  the  room  with  a  large  bunch 
of  keys  in  his  hands:  "Well,  how  is  it?  Are  j'^ou 
prepared  to  render  obedience  to  the  will  of  the  right 
reverend  Cardinal?" 

"I  am  ready  to  do  so!"  said  the  man  in  a  trembling 
voice. 

"Well  then,"  continued  the  former,  handing  the 
old  man  a  purse  and  a  roll  of  paper,  "here  are  the 
promised  hundred  pistoles,  and  this  document  contains 
the  decree  which  secures  you  a  good  position  at  St- 
Pierre-le-jeune. " 

The  sacristan  of  St.  Denis  took  the  proffered  papers 
so  timidly,  that  it  seemed  as  if  the  extended  arm  was 
not  in  perfect  underestanding  with  his  own  conscience. 


i£LM;- 


*^'^r'>" 


^^a^^^^^^^^iSi^sm^^^^^^^sii^ 


^•mFw^i 


86 


5»;^'"|«PNiy  •  m  "•i^an^-.m'^wf'ffv. 


A   ROYAL   ROBBER 


"Arid  thfe  most  reverend  Cardinal," — said  he  with  an 
embarrassed  air.  ■    [■    . 

"We  assure  you  upon  our  honor,"  answered  the 
now  steady  voice  of  the  old  Savoyard,  "that  a  sacred 
vow  obliges  us  to  pass  the  whole  night  in  the  church 
of  the  abbey. "  j 

"Well,  make  no  longer  delay!"  contihued  the  younger 
man,  "and  lead  us  through  the  underground  passage 
to  the  place  known  only  to  you." 

"Only  one  word  first!"  interrupted  the  musical  voice 
of  a  woman. 

"Why  now?"  asked  the  younger  Savoyard  angrily. 
"Can  not  the  matter  wait  till  morning?"  ■■ 

"No,"  answered  the  female  voice  decidedly.  "Every 
articleof  the  agreement  must  be  accurately  kept,  other- 
wise—" 

"Be  silent,"  said  the  other  as  he  turned  to  the  sac- 
ristan and  whispered  a  few  words  in  his  ear.  ° 

A  few  moments  later  the  old  man  with  the  soldiers, 
the  negro,  and  one  of  the  women  left  the  apartment. 
The  outer  blinds  were  closed,  and  when  he  came  back 
with  a  dimly  burning  oil  lamp,  he  found  the  two  Savoy- 
ards with  a  lady  in  a  black  dress  of  fine  material,  but 
cut  in  a  strange  fashion.  Her  features  were  not 
beautiful — one  might  almost  call  her  expression  un- 
earthly— but  it  was  by  no  means  repulsive.  The  fig- 
ure of  the  woman  — she  was  perhaps  about  forty  years 
old — on  the  other  hand,  was  faultless,  and  revealed 
firm,  graceful  outlines.  The  loose  garment  she  had 
worn  as  a  disguise  lay  on  the  ground. 


4  V-V!  l^^i^2^~tBL-:^ilSi£&%A 


■i^'■..;■i*t:;li;.--AJ.->ii&■ii*^;.^si.'J~,^^li*i^*i?aii^^ 


'-?r.|^?^f-»*  ■■•(*  — —  -'  _  vtI 


■    -  -  _  ^- 

THE   CONJURATION  ^  87 

At  the  first  ray  that  streamed  from  the  dim  oil 
lamp  the  sacristan  shrank  back;  still  it  would  be  nor 
ticed  by  every  close  observer  that  the  old  man  was  no 
longer  astonished  at  the  appearance. 

"And  what  do  you  wish  now,  madame?"  asked  the 
younger  Savoyard,  after  they  were  left  alone. 

"You  know,   M.  le    Due,"  answered    the    lady,  "the 
agreement.   If  all    these    articles    are  not  entirely  ful- 
filled the  conjuration  will  come  to  nothing.'^ 
_    "Do  her  will!"  whispered  the    cardinal  in  the  Savo- 
yard's dress,  "you  know    what    depends    upon  it." 

"Uncle!"  said  the  Due  de  St.  Aignan,  in  a  scarcely 
audible  voice,    bending    down    to    the    cardinal's  ear. 

"Uncle!  have  you  considered  sufficiently? — the  sum 
is  enormous!"  . 

"Count  it  out,"  replied  the  distinguished  prefate 
in  a  whisper,  "true,  the  demand  of  La  Voison  is  enor- 
mous, but — the  property  which  Marshal  Tiirenne  (whose 
heir  I  am  as  you  know)  left,  must  be  a  thousand 
times  greater." 

"But,  uncle,  are  you  certain  that  the  marshal  had 
property?      It  has  been  disputed." 

"With  such  a  name,  such  dignities,  and  the  thousand 
opportunities  for  becoming  rich  which  such  a  general 
has,  would  a  man  die  without  leaving  a  sou  behind? 
I  tell  you  he  has  buried  his  wealth,  and  to-night  the 
place  where  the  treasure  is  hidden  shall  be  specified. 
La  Voison  will  summon  the  spirit  of  Tiirenne  out  of 
his  grave  to-night,  so  that  he  may  tell  us  where  and 
how  we  can  £nd  his  property. 


w 


^ 


A  aOYAL  ROBBER 


**You  are  still  convinced  of  the  witch's  magical 
power?"  ,  j  ■ 

"Certainly,"  replied  the  Due  and  there  was  an  ex- 
pression of  perfect  conviction  in  the  tone  with  which 
he  said  this  "certainly."  i"  - 

"Then  com.t  out  the  appointed  sum!"  continued  the 
cardinal."  i 

"Well,  gentlemen?"  said  the  lady,  tired  of  the  long 
delay.  | 

"Accept  It,  madame!"  answered  St.  Algnan.  "Here, 
according  to  the  agreement,  are  the  twenty-five  thou- 
sand livres  in  gold;  the  other  twenty-five  thousand 
are,  according  to  agreement,  deposited  with  a  third 
person,  whom  you  yourself  proposed,  the  pious  Pere 
St.  Etienne,  from  whom  you  are  certain  to  receive  them 
after  the  conjuration  has  taken  place!"  i 

"Very  well,"  replied  La  Voison  as  she  pocketed  the 
offered  sum.  "But  now  let  us  go  to  work — it  is  high 
time."  I      ; 

A  distant  peal  of  thunder  answered  these  words. 
The  storm  was  approaching.  St.  Aignan  called  the 
sacristan.  The  old  man  came  in  with  a  lantern  and 
bunch  of  keys  in  his  hand — the  horror  of  the  day  of 
judgment  was  expressed  in  all  his  features.  The  others 
waited  In  the  dark  little  vestibule.  At  a  gesture  from 
the  trembling  hand  of  the  old  man,  all  followed  and 
soon  disappeared  In  a  gloomy,  cellar-like  arch  that  led 
to  the  underground  passage  known  only  to  thesacrisv^ 
tan  of  St.  Denis, 


hiiirriff'^i 


..^.^...^.....^i^i^^'^-^^ 


THE  CONJURATION 


89 


Those  were  strange  times,  and  strange  people  lived 
in  them!  While  on  the  one  hand  the  greatest  levity, 
immorality  and  frivolity  reigned  at  the  court  of  Louis 
XIV,  on  the  other  there  was  a  still  more  rigid  appar- 
ent observance  of  religion  Priests  and  churches  played 
a  great  role;  confessions  and  masses  were  attended 
with  incredible  punctuality,  if  only  to  see  and  be 
seen,  or  even  to  carry  on  the  most  frivolous  love  ad- 
ventures. It  was  the  fashion  under  the  "great  king" 
to  trifle  with  everything,  with  hearts,  with  the  people, 
with  cards,  with  the  welfare  of  millions,  with  virtue 
and  crime,  with  religion,  with  finances,  with  poison 
and  dagger,  and  .  .  .  with  the  devil  himself.      - 

Men  of  the  church,  like  Cardinal  Richelieu  and 
Mazarin,  were  at  that  time  powerful  ministers  of 
state.  The  state  was  under  them  ecclesiastically  also 
— but  men  did  not  become  better  and  more  pioas,  but 
only  more  hypocritical  and  evil.  Neither  populace  nor 
priesthood,  nobles  nor  king,  were  imbued  with  tl|e 
knowledge  of  true  religion.  *  In  a  word,  religion  at 
that  time  consisted  only  of  superstition  and  superfi- 
cial rites.  People  were  anxious  and  childish  about 
trifles,  and  incredibly  hardened  in  regard  to  the  most 
terrible  evil.  All  sins  in  the  world,  after  all,  were 
pardoned  at  the  last  confession.  But  where  could  such 
a  practise  lead  save  to  disgraceful  hypocrisy  and  cor- 
ruption, which  naturally  go  hand  in  hand  with  super- 
stitions of  which  our  century  has  no  conception. 
Louis  XIV  and  his  whole  court  served  as  an  example 


m^^M^M^..&.,.mm^ 


-^pCB'^'ySSfl^P^-a^^'"'  "ji^jygWB! 


90 


A  ROYAL  ROBBER 


of  levity,  corruption,  and  immorality,  to  the  people. 
Since  the  sudden  death  of  the  wife  of  the  Due  d'Or- 
leans — the  brother  of  Louis  XIV — which,  as  was  whis- 
pered, was  caused  by  poison,  to  the  horror  of  all  the 
world  a  number  of  deaths  occurred  whose  cause  re- 
mained un-ascertained.  Prophesies,  exorcism  of  spirits, 
and  similar  things  were  the  order  of  the  day.  Indeed 
at  court  and  among  the  people  a  magic  and  enchant- 
ment bureau  was  spoken  of,  as  well  as  a  secret  manu- 
factory of  the  horrible  poison,  which  the  Parisians, 
in  their  desire  to  jest  at  everything,  called  "Succssion 
powder" — poudre  de  succession.  Two  Italians,  Exili 
and  Destinelli,  while  searching  for  the  philosopher's 
stone  had,  it  was  said,  discovered  the  preparation  of 
this  poison,  which  left  no  trace.  The  terrible  poisoner 
Brinvilliers  had  first  tried  it  on  Lieutenant  General 
d'Aubray,  who  died  and  was  buried  without  raising 
the  least  suspicion  against  the  guilty  woman. 
^Sbon  after  this,  a  certain  La  Voisin,  a  celebrated 
fortune-teller,  who  was  sought  in  the  very  highest  Pari- 
sian society,  saw  what  an  advantage  she  would  gain 
if  she  could  extend  her  branch  of  industry  in  this 
manner.  From  this  time  she  therefore  not  only  proph- 
esied the  death  of  a  rich  relation  to  an  heir,  but  also 
helped  to  carry  out  her  prophecy  so  that  her  fame  be- 
came extraordinary.  ! 

Two  priests,  Le  Sage  and  d*Auvaux  assisted  her 
and  the  result  of  this  frightful  union  was  such 
an    excess    of    crimes   that    all   France  trembled,  and 


Bliiri^-rfiTNtillrMWii 


nfifAlitiigJnilfti' 


wrm^^i^^i^^^WT^^^?^ 


THE  CONJURATION 


91 


Louis  XIV  saw  himself  at  last  obliged  to  create  an 
especial  court  of  justice,  the  Chambre-ardentey  for 
such  crimes,  because  the  highest  people  of  the 
court  might  perhaps  be  concerned  in  the  intended  in- 
vestigations. 

Even  Monseigneur,  the  king's  brother,  visited  La 
Voisin  many  times,  and  though  disguised,  was  accom- 
panied by  the  Sieur  de  Lorraine,  Comte  de  Beuvron, 
and  the  Marquis  d'Effiat.  The  first  time  he  came  to 
learn  what  had  become  of  a  son  of  his  wife,  Madame 
Henrietta,  born  in  1668,  and  of  whom  he  declared  hfe 
was  not  the  father.  According  to  his  assertion,  the 
child  was  born  in  England  where  the  report  of  his 
death  was  spread.  He  wished  to  be  certain  upon  this 
important  point.  This  could  be  ascertained  without 
magic.  La  Voisin  therefore  determined  to  explain  it 
by  natural  means,  and  with  the  prince's  consent  sent 
her  cousin,  Beauvillard,  to  London.  After  the  lapse 
of  a  month,  Beauvillard  returned  and  gave  the  follow- 
ing account,  true  or  false.  Madame  really  had  a  child, 
born  in  England  in  the  year  1668,  which  was  not  dead, 
but  given  up  to  the  guardianship  of  his  uncle.  King 
Charles  II,  who  loaded  him  with  every  token  of  love 
and  tenderness.  It  was  thought  that  Louis  XIV  was 
himself  the  father  of  this  child. 

Monseigneur  paid  4000  pistoles  and  a  diamond  to 
La  Voisin  for  the  discover}^,  and  250  louis  d'or  to  Beau- 
villard. The  second  time  that  Monseigneur  visited 
La  Voisin  was  at  Mendon.     He    wished    to    summon 


ga  A  ROYAL  ROBBEK        -<  | 

the  devil,  from  whom  he  would  demand  Turpin's  ring, 
or  some  such  means  to  rule  the  king.  La  Voisin 
caused  a  spirit  to  appear  whom  Monselgneur,  who 
was  very  courageous,  recognized  as  Satan.  Monseign- 
eur  demanded  the  before  mentioned  ring  or  talisman, 
but  the  phantom  answered  that  the  king  possessed  a 
charm  which  protected  him  from  any  control.       I 

The  queen,  too,  wished  to  see  the  celebrated  fortune 
teller.  La  Voisin  placed  the  cards  for  her,  and  offered 
to  prepare  a  love  potion  which  should  procure  her  the 
♦mdivided  love  of  the  king;  but  the  queen  answered 
she  would  rather,  as  before,  lament  her  husband's 
faithlessness,  than  administer  any  potion  to  him  which 
might  injure  his  health.  The  queen  never  saw  the 
poisoner  again.  Not  so  with  the  Countess  de  Soissons, 
Olympia  Mancini,  she  visited  La  Voisin  more  than 
thirty  times,  and  perliaps  received  her  still  oftener. 
Her  aim  was  to  secure  for  herself  the  possession  of 
the  enormous  property  of  Cardinal  Mazarin,  her  uncle 
to  the  neglect  of  all  other  relation,  and  to  regain  her 
formet  influence  over  the  king,  which  she  had  allowed 
to  escape  her.  Less  conscientious  than  the  queen,  she 
vehemently  demanded  an  elixir  of  love  which  should 
turn  Louis'  entire  affection  and  devotion  to  her,  and  in 
order  to  prepare  it  had  given  to  the  poisoner  hair, 
nails,  shirts,  several  stockings  and  a  collar  of  the 
king's  from  which  to  make  a  love-puppet  like  the  one 
which  had  attracted  so  much  attention  about  a  hundred 
years  before  at  the  trial  of  La  Mote.     It  was  said  she 


t 


tSE    CONJURATION  ^ 

had  also  procured,  for  La  Voisin  a  few  drops  of  the 
king's  blood  in  a  little  crystal  flask.  The  conjuration 
had  taken  place,  however,  without  the  slightest  result. 
Fouquet,  at  the  height  of  his  good  fortune,  had  been 
connected  wi  th  the  fortune  teller,  and  had  even  given 

'  her  an  annual  stipend.  Bussy  Rabutin  came  to  her 
to  receive  something  which  should  procure  him  the 
love  of  his  cousin,  Madame  de  S^vigni^,  and  a  talis- 
man to  make  him  the  sole  favorite  of    the  king.     The 

'  Due  de  Lauzun  desired   to   alwaj'^s   be   loved   by   the 

.  sovereign's  mistresses;  and  to  obtain  some  certainty 
about  his  marriage  with  mademoiselle,  and  learn  wheth- 
er he  should  receive  a  certain  order.  In  relation  to  the 
latter  point,  La  Voisin  answered  that  he  should  have 
the  blue  ribbon.  The  prophecy  was  fulfilled;  but  it 
was  not  the  order  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  of  which  he  was 
thinking,  but  the  order  of  the  Garter  .which  he  ob 
tained. 

'  The  Duke  of  Luxembourg  had   desired    to   see   the 
devil  upon  whom  he  wished  to  make  a  claim:    namely 

.  that  Satan  should,  by  his  power,  demand  his  appoint- 
ment as  Duke  of  Pinez. 

Such  were  the  spiritual,  religious,  and  moral  re- 
lations, at  the  court  of  Louis  XIV,  when  even  the  heir 
of  Marshal  Turenne,  the  reverend  abbot  of  Auvergne, 
Emanuel  Theodosius  de  la  Tour,  Prince  and  Cardinal 
de  Bouillon,  High  Almoner  of  France,  in  company 
with  his  nephew,  the  Due  de  St.  Aignan,  La  Voisin 
and  hex  waiting-maid,  the   two   priests,  disguised  as 


^^-'^'^^^^^^^fliiffifMMTWf^  '■-^^^-^■---^-^-^- 


?J5^„" 


;"^^3S-'  !i?>s»i;    -'  -•  ^   -•"it^^osOTmy^ 

^l^nHHnHHHH 

Mi 

**        "         '                 "_"""'  ' 

.^p^^^^^ 

^^ 

__ 

'  _■     " 

"  "X 

94 


A  ROYAL  ROBBER 


soldiers,  and  a  negro  to  carry  the  magical  apparalttis, 
went  to  St.  Denis  in  order  to  conjure  up,  by  a  "devils* 
mass,"  the  spirit  of  Tiirenne  from  his  grave,  that  he 
might  tell  the  avaricious  souls  where  Marshal  Tiirenne 
had  buried  his  property. 

Night  brooded  over  the  earth.  It  was  Friday  and 
this  Friday  fell  exactly  on  the  thirteenth  of  the 
month.  So,  according  to  the  statement  of  La  Voisin, 
it  must  be,  and  the  conjuration  could  only  take  place 
in  the  church  of  St.  Denis,  and  then  only  at  the  mid* 
night  hour. 

It  was  about  eleven.  Thanks  to  the  corruptibility 
of  the  old  sacristan,  they  had  passed  through  the 
underground  passage  to  the  abbey.  An  arch  of  the 
bell-tower  now  concealed  the  sacrilegious  group. 

Still  it  seemed  as  if,  at  the  last  hour,  the  voice  of 
eternity  sought  to  warn  them,  for  the  thunder  of  the 
approaching  storm  rolled,  the  wind  howled  round  the 
tower,  the  lightning  gleamed  through  the  little  windows 
of  the  building  illuminating  its  darkness  for  a  moment, 
and  making  the  pale,  unearthly  iaces  of  the  partic- 
ipants in  the  ceremony  look  like  spirits.  ! 

The  clock  struck  eleven,  and  with  the  last  stroke,  a 
key  turned  in  the  lock  of  the  little  iron  door  which 
led  out  of  the  arch  of  the  bell-tower  into  the  interior 
of  the  church.  A  slnall,  faint  ray  of  light  streamed  in 
from  the  dark  lantern  of  the  sacristan.  | 

A  death-like  stillness  reigned  in  the  wide  apart- 
ment.    Silently — like  warning  giant  fingers— rose  the 


L'- 


-   .  THE  CONJURATION  95 

mighty  columns — the  pious  thoughts  embodied  in  stone 
of  a  century  long  since  dead.  Softly  the  party  moved 
through  the  empty  space  to  the.  back  part  of  the 
church,  for  here  only — aside  from  the  abbey — was  the 
glimmer  of  light  securely  shielded  from  any  eyes 
which  might  still  be  open. 

They  had  now  reached  the  place  where  the  "devils'  " 
mass,"  that  is,  the  service  read  backward,  was  to  be 
repeated.  Quickly  and  noiselessly,  Lesage  and  d'Au- 
raux  erected  a  kind  of  altar,  the  negro,  like  a  dark 
demon  risen  from  hell,  assisting  them,  spread  a  black 
cloth  over  It,  and  lighted  five  black  wax  candles. 
Then  the  sacred  books  were  placed  upon  it  upside 
down,  the  crucifix  head  downward,  and  the  priests 
put  on  their  vestments  wrong  side  out 

Even  the  heart  of  the  reverend  abbot  of  Auvergne, 
trembled  at  this  moment.  A  death  like  pallor  covered 
his  face  .  .  .  his  limbs  shook. 

"Nephew!"  he  whispered  softly  to  the  Due  de  St. 
Aignan,  who  was  standing  near  him,  and  around 
whose  lips,  though  a  little  pale,  the  perpetual  smile 
played,   "nephew!  I  fear  Satan." 

"Wherefore?"  asked  the  Due,  with  difficulty  con- 
cealing his  own  agitation,  for  so  deeply  in  those  times 
was  superstition  implanted  yi  every  soul,  that  even 
the  most  frivolous  believed  In  magic  and  the  possibility 
of  raising  spirits  from  the  grave. 

"Wherefore?"  repeated  the  Cardinal,  whose  con- 
science— notwithstanding  his  insatiable  avarice— began 


a!^^-fea^fef,frigii,-;#aii«fefer- 


^^^ 


q6 


A  ItOYAI.  RQBBEft 


to  cry  out  in  his  soul:     "Because,  after  all,  his    horri- 
bie  appearance  might  kill  iisP    ^  j 

"Do  not  fear,  most  worthy  uncle,**  answered  St, 
Aignan  softly,  while  with  great  effort  he  put  on  an  air 
of  easy  unconstraint.  "Do  you  know  how  the  devil 
looks?"  I       • 

"No,"  replied  the  bewildered  abbot.  ] 

"YoG  know  the  trial  of  Madame  Brinvilliers?**   i 
"YesI    The  Due  de  La   Reynie  was  presiding^  nX 
the  trial."  |  ' 

"Yes!"  i      ' 

"Well,  the  Duchess  de  Bouillon  was  summoned!  on 
account  of  a  devil's  conjuration.  When  La  Reynie 
asked:  'Did  you  see  the  devil  Madame?  And  if  you 
saw  him,  tell  me  how  he  looked!"  she  answeerd 
quietly:  *No,  my  Lord,  I  have  not  seen  him;  but  I 
see  him  at  this  moment:  he  is  ugly  and  dressed  like 
a  councilor!*"  j 

'^'Do  not  jest!"  answered  the  cardinal  sternly.  "How 
can  you  at  this  hour?"  [     - 

A  fearful  peal  of  thunder  at  this  moment  shook  the 
old  building  to  its  foundation.  A  sea  of  fire  flamed  in 
at  all  the  windows  of  the  church.  Hell  seemed,  in 
fact,  to  have  opened  its  gates.  Everyone  stood 
affrighted,  every  ear  listened  to  hear  a  cry  •  of 
fire.  But  all  remained  quiet  and  only  the  storm 
continued  to  rage.  ,  .        ■.; 

•*Let  us  begin,"  said  La  Voisin  at  last,  "and  you, 
my  Lords,  be  composed,  in  all  probability  the  spirit 
will  appear  during  the  consecration.**  i 


'  THE  CONJURATIOir  97 

The  mass  began.  But  the  storm  grew  fiercer  and 
fiercer.  Heaven  and  earth  were  continually  bathed  in 
fire  and  flame  while  one  peal  followed  another, 
the  earth  trembled  and— rocked  by  the  storm,  the 
bells  of  the  tower  called  anxiously  for  help. 

Then  d'Auvaux,  the  infamous  priest,  raised  the 
Host,  calling  upon  the  devil  instead  of  God.  But  at 
this  moment  a  piercing  scream  resounded,  a  flag  stona 
in  the* choir  rose  and  a  figure  enveloped  in  a  shroud 
appeared.  La  Voisin  and  the  priest  sank  on  the  floor; 
the  cardinal  and  even  St.  Aignan  staggered  back.  But 
the  figure  cried  with  a  hollow,  sepulchral  voice: 
"Wretch,  you  have  degraded  ray  house,  made  famous 
by  many  heroes.  It  will  fall!  My  name  will  be 
extinguished  before  a  century  has  passed.  Know! — 
the  treasure  which  /  left — is —  my  fame— my  vicioriesf 
Worthless  man,  seek  for  no  other." 

With  these  words  the  figure  sank  back.  Another 
fearful  peal  of  thunder  rolled  over  the  church.  A  blast 
of  wind  destroyed  one  of  the  decaying  windows,  and 
the  candles  went  out. 


7    JRohier 


gi^i^^^^.^^.s^.^.-^..,w..^;...i^^^^ 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


THE    DREAM. 


Charming  Limagne  is  like  an  Eden  surrounded  by 
laurels  and"  myrtles,  evergreens,  oaks,  orange  and 
lemon  trees,  while  above  arches  a  soft,  almost  eternally 
clear  sky!  |     ' 

Yes,  charming  Limagne  is  like  an  Eden!  and  above 
the  vineyards  and  the  olive-groves  and  the  golden 
fruit-fields  rise  the  summits  of  the  Puy  de  Dome  and 
the  grand  Mont  d'Or.  [ 

And  5'et  another  thing  in  Limagne  in  those  days  re-, 
minded  one  of  the  Eden  of  man;  the  simplicity  and 
unspoiled  condition  of  manners,  which— rin  contrast  to 
Paris  and  the  court — reigned    in    that    neighborhood. 

Here  was  where  Marie  Angeline  Scoraille  de  Rousille, 
the  lovely  sixteen  year  old  daughter  of  the  house  of 
Fontanges  grew  up  upon  the  banks  of  the  AUier  like  a 
beautiful  flower  hidden  from  the  world.  Left  to  the 
care  of  an  invalid  mother,  upon  whose  shoulders  still 
heavier  cares  rested,  for  the  family  of  Fontanges— 
like  so  many  of  the  provincial  nobility — had  long 
since  declined  and  been  impoverished,  Angeline  had 
not  the  benefit  of  any  especial  education,  but  heri  in- 
tellect was  not  of  the   kind    to   feel    the    need    o£    to 

88 


^Virii  ■r-^'-i-'itir  1  i'Tg'^^SfrliiffinfrTrfirrf'W'-i!iiinii-iirriiK-irt-^ ^^£^k%^^&&»sci^.^£^f^r^^ 


THE   DREAM  9|^ 

strive  independently  for  a  special  cultivation.  Child- 
ishly pious  and  good  by  nature,  she  enjoyed  the  little 
knowledge  which  her  confessor  brought  her,  and  this 
was  confined  to  instruction  in  religious  matters,  a 
little  reading  and  writing,  a  hasty  glance  at  the  his- 
tory of  her  native  country,  and  the  more  accurate 
knowledge  of  the  departed  greatness  of  the  house 
of  Fontanges  and  the  family  of  the  Comtd  de  Mont- 
f errand. 

But  in  those  times  the  daughters  of  the  provincial 
nobility  seldom  learned  more — with  the  exception  of 
the  art  of  needlework — and  so  this  simple  education 
would  have  done  no  particular  harm  to  the  charming 
Angeline,  if  the  only  thing  which  was  taught  her 
thoroughly,  the  history  of  her  house  and  its  former 
splendor,  had  not  strengthened  and  advanced  that 
weak  point  in  her.  character,  which  must  be  design 
nated  as  the  most  prominent. 

This  weakness  was — vanity.  But  could  Angeline 
be  otherwise  than  vain?  Even  as  a  child,  she  was 
beautiful  as  a  little  angel  and  every  one  took  pains  to' 
tell  her  so. 

Goethe  said:  "Women  are  vain  by  nature;  but  it 
is  becoming  to  them,  and  we  like  them  the  better  for 
it."  Still  this  might  have  passed  away  in  the  case  of 
Mademoiselle  de  Fontanges  as  with  so  many  other 
young  ladies,  if  this  vanity  had  not  found  new  nourish- 
ment in  the  faded  greatness  of  her  house,  which 
awakened  in  the  young  girPs  breast  a  silent  longing 


iki 


•  ^wytttiiff^^^^^^^'^^"^-^^^^"-^-  -^---^^^^^^-----—^^ 


lOO        .  A  ROVAL  ROBBER 

for  the  recovery  of  such  splendor.  The  consequence 
was  that,  with  all  innocence  and  childishness-— a 
secret,  vague  ambition  consumed  her.  But  the  lovely 
Angeline  was,  in  fact,  still  too  Immature  to  give  any 
other  than  a  childish  expression  to  this  ambition.  She 
found  it  in  sweet  reveries,  for  which  the  loneliness  of 
her  quiet  life  In  poetic  Limagne  afforded  her  plenty 
of  time.  Then  she  dreamed  herself  back  in  former 
centuries,  as  the  daughter  of  the  once  famous  and 
powerful  Rueil  Charles  de  Fontanges,  who  rose  to  a 
high  rank,  and  was  the  friend  of  Philip  VII  of  Valois; 
or  as  the  niece  of  Laurent  de  Fontanges,  the  Abbot 
of  Notre-Dame  de-Bon-Port,  who  under  King  Charles 
VII,  with  Agnes  Sorel,  was  one  of  the  most  prominent 
characters  at  court.  1 

Amid  such  visions  had  Angeline  grown  up  and  with 
her — as  a  near  relative — the  little  Gauthier  de  Mont- 
ferrand.  The  children  had  but  one  heart  and  soul; 
their  natures  in  time  almost  blended  Into  one.  In 
the  common  childish  plays  Gauthier  usually  took  the 
part  of  the  knight  of  the  Lady  of  Fontanges  or  even 
Charles  VII  himself,  who  not  only  paid  homage  in 
every  way  to  the  niece  of  the  Abbot  of  Notre-Dame- 
de-Bon-Port,  but  also  made  her  his  queen.  j 

Thus  a  childish  affection  between  Gauthier  and 
Angeline  developed,  and  increased,  although  it  scarcely 
gave  token  of  being  anything  more  than  the  love 
between  a.  brother  and  sister.  Only  when  both  had 
grown  up,  and  Gauthier— to  open   a  career  for  him* 


f Prr^-i  Wf-r '  r  ^r^j^jjir  fft^irr-iii-iiitiirf"t  rnfJiTi^^  ■•^litniiliiiiiiWitifeiBii 


THE  DREAM  lOZ 

self — was  summoned  by  his  uncle.  Captain  de  Torcy, 
to  Paris  and  the  court — only  then,  agitated  by  the 
thought  of  parting,  both  became  aware  that  an  affection 
had  grown  in  their  hearts  which  was  something  more 
than  fraternal  love. 

Thus  it  happened  that,  from  this  moment,  An- 
geline's  thoughts  were  directed  towards  Versailles. 
There  lived  the  one  for  whom  her  heart  beat,  and 
this  youthful  hedrt  was  passionate  enough,  notwith- 
standing her  frigid  exterior.  Thither  turned  her 
quiet  reveries.. 

The  first  letter  of  the  youth— directed  to  his 
mother  and  also  to  Angeline^had  not  been  very 
enthusiastic  about  the  court  of  Versailles.  The  heart 
of  the  young  man  seemed  to  be  depressed  and 
saddened.  In  how  many  expectations  he  had  been 
disappointed!  How  his  pure,  child-like  soul  shuddered 
at  the  unrestrained  frivolity  and  immorality  which 
met  him  here!  How  he  wished  himself  back  in  his 
quiet  Limagne!  Only  one  thing  according  to  his  first 
letter  comforted  him:  the  cordiality  with  which  his 
uncle  received  him  j  and — the  astonishing  complaisance 
with  which  the  noble,  intellectual  Due  de  St.  Aignan, 
the  especial  favorite  of  the  king,  had  tendered  him 
his  friendship*  What  visions  of  the  future  he  could 
build  upon  it;  what  hopes  for  his  mother  and  Angeline 
Gauthier  suggested. 

This  first  letter  was  soon  followed  by  others.  An- 
geline trembled  with  delight  for  they  were  directed  to 


..* 


A^rz' 


I03 


A  ROYAL  ROBBER 


her — and  how  differently  everything  at  ^ourt  now 
appeared  to  her  cousin,  how  constantly  he  thought  of 
her!  Oh!  what  a  glowing,  longing  love  could  be  read 
in  these  words,  a  love  which  drew  her  with  magic 
power,  to  the  court. 

0\\\  what  a  life  it  must  be  there!  People  appeared 
in  dresses  so  costly  and  beautiful,  that  one  could  have— 
no  idea  of  them  in  poor  Limagne.  And  the  festivals 
the  king  gave!  And  what  homage  he,  the  great  king, 
the-handsomest  and  most  thivalric  man  in  France, 
paid  to  women.  Like  a  sweet,  intoxicating  poison, 
the  lovely  Mademoiselle  de  Fontanges  drank  in  these 
alluring  words.  They  flattered  her  vanity  too  much 
for  her  to  weigh  their  meaning  quietly,  and  compare 
them  with  Gauthier's  former  turn  of  mindj  so  well 
known  to  her.  Already  in  imagination  she  saw  hjer- 
self  among  all  these  high-born  noble  ladies— .otit- 
shining  them — envied  by  them — admired  and  honored 
by  Louis  XIV!  '  I 

At  this  time  a  new  impulse  and  excitement  was 
stirred  in  her  heart  by  the  news;  that  the  Marquise  |de 
Montespan,  the  mistress  of  the  king,  had  expressed}  a 
wish  to  one  of  her  distant  relatives,  living  in  Cler- 
mont, that  she  should  send  her  one  of  the  young 
ladies  from  the  nobility  of  Limagne  to  occupy  a 
position  at  court,  as  lady  of  honor  to  the  queen. 

The  marquise  had  requested  her  to  propose  several 
of  the  young  ladies  belonging  to  the  nobility.  | 

Among    those     proposed — so    much    Angeline    had 


'^,&,.,.,^,^^.^^.i.^:^.^S^.^,^£ki^ 


THE  DREAM  .  _,  X03 

..learned  from  the  friend  through  whom  Gauthier's 
,  letters  had  lately  come — was  her  name,  although  her 
mother,  as  well  as  her  confessor  and  teacher,  had  at 
first  very  decidedly  opposed  it;  The  urgency  of  the 
family,  a  letter  from  Gauthier,  and'  the  entreaties  of 
Angelina  had  won  the  victory. 

How  the  hearts  of  all  the  young  girls  whose  names 
had  been  sent  to  Versailles  beat  with  anxiety — how 
quickly  and  passionately  that  of  the  charming  Marie 
Angeline  throbbed  in  her  bosom.  But  no  answer  had 
as  yet  arrived.  The  uncertainty  and  expectation 
almost  overpowered  little  Mademoiselle  de  Fontanges, 
and  she  sought  solitude  more  than  ever. 

And  with  this  memory,  Angeline's  waking  dreams- 
and  thoughts  change.  A  full  hour  might  have  passed 
when  Pere  Hilaire,  the  confessor  of  the  lovely  Made- 
moiselle de  Fontanges,  came  down  the  path.  He  was 
a  plain,  somewhat  narrow-minded,  but  worthy  man,  who 
without  questioning,  submissively  believed  what  the 
church  commanded,  but  at  the  same  time  intended  to  be 
honest  with  men,  especially  with  the  souls  Intrusted 
to  his  care.  Therefore  he  loved  Angeline  like  a  father, 
for  since  her  childhood  she  had  been  to  him  the  type 
by  which  he  imagined  the  angels  in  heaven. 

The  idea  that  there  was  a  possibility  of  the  removal 
of  his  pupil  to  court,  made  him  very  anxious,  and 
while  coming-from  the  sick  bed  of  a  poor  woman  at 
the  other  end  of  the  valley,  he  was  again  meditating 
upon  this  vexatious  subject,  when  he  found  his 
darling  sleeping  at  the  edge  of  the  wood. 


'^^^^^'^^^^^■v^,»-iiVim<gi\ 


'7*fS. 


'JW^?^?^' 


104 


A    ROYAL    ROBBER 


Oh!  how  charmingly  the  lovely  girl  lay  there,  like 
a  beautiful  flower  among  her  sisters,  resting  so  lightly 
on  the  swelling  turf,  and  in  fact  a  thousand  charms 
exerted  so  powerful  an  attraction,  that  "Peih  Hilaire 
could  not  resist  pressing  a  soft  kiss  upon  her  dress. 
Suddenly  she  breathed  quicker  and  more  heavily,  the 
smile  which  had  just  played  around  her  lips  dis- 
appeared, terror  was  expressed  in  her  features, 
and  a  low  groan  indicated  an  anxious,  troubled  dream. 

"Poor  child,"  thought  the  priest,  "life  will  bring 
you  still  more  troubled  dreams. "  and  he  gently  awoke 
his  pupil.  Angeline  de  Fontanges  started  up  in 
terror.  She  needed  time  to  think  where  she  was,  and 
how  she  had  come  there. 

Pere  Hilaire  smiled  at  her  with  fatherly  kindness, 
and  then  said:  "You  have  had  a  troubled  and  anxious 
dream,  my  dear  child. " 

"Yes,  father,"  answered  the  young  girl,  still  half 
bewildered  and  frightened.  "And  it  was  strange 
enough."  1 

"Strange?" — repeated  the  priest, — "what  was  it  that 
my  lovely  child  dreamed  in  the  open  air? " 

Angeline  .hesitated,  pressed  her  hand  upon  her  brow, 
and  after  a  little  pause  said,  as  if  speaking  to  her- 
self: 

"Oh I— it  was  beautiful,  and  at  the  same  time  horri- 
ble, but  strangely  mysterious  also.  But, "  she  con- 
tinued eagerly,  "you  know  how  to  explain  dreams, 
Pere  Hilaire." 


^■^^^^''''^-■'^^r^iriiifiiriiiftiii  f  -ti^ 


r.^r":)^- 


THE  DREAM 


105 


"Dreams?"  replied  the  priest  gravely,  "dream^s 
come  from  God,  and  in  this  way  He  often  warns  his 
poor,  weak  human  children  of  evil   and   destruction!" 

"Strange! "  said  the  girl  Jbending  her  beautiful  head 
thoughtfully,  "byt  you  are  my  confessor  and  teacher, 
so  I  will^  relate  my  dream  to  you — and  you  may  inter- 
pret it." 

The  priest  sat   down    by  Angeline    and    she  began: 

"I  thought  I  had  climbed  to  the  summit  of  a  very 
high  mountain,  around  me  lay  the  world,  but  just  as 
I  reached  the  top  I  was  so  much  dazzled  by  a  purple 
and  gold  cloud  that  I  could  not  find  my  way.  The 
cloud  seemed  to  rise — and  I  was  inspired  with  courage 
— but  I  suddenly  began  to  sink,  deep  darkness  en- 
veloped me,  and  my  soul  was  so  agitated  by  anxiety 
and  fear  that  I  awoke." 

Angeline  was  silent — the  priest's  expression  had 
become  grave  and  sad. 

"And.  the  interpretation?"  asked  Mademoiselle  de 
Fontanges  anxiously. 

"The  interpretation,"  repeated  the  priest,  "is  a  warn- 
ing to  you  In  your  path  of  life.  Take  care,  my  daugh- 
ter, the  mountain  is  the  court,  where  you,  If  you  go, 
which  I  hope  will  not  be  the  case,  will  excite  great 
attention.  But  this  attention  will  not  be  of  long  dur- 
ation if  you  forsake  your  God;  for  in  that  case  God 
will  forsake  you,  and  you  will  perish  in  eternal  night. " 

Angeline  was  terrified.  She  went  home  beside  the 
pious  priest,  absorbed  in  her  own  thoughts,  and  speak- 
ing only  in  monosyllables. 


mi^^ 


>,^gmMm»^'i^^-j:*''^'^-'^'=^^i^''^'- 


io6 


A  ROYAL  ROBBER 


On  her  arrival  she  found  every  one  in  excitement; 
the  Marquise  de  Montespan  had  made  her  selection 
from  among  the  young  ladies  of  Limagne  and 
her  choice  had  fallen  upon  Marie  Angeline  iJcoraille 
de  Rousille,  Mademoiselle  de  Fontanges.  \    ' 


CHAPTER  IX. 


A  NOBLE  FRIEND. 


Gauthier  sat  alone  in  his  room.  It  was  a  small 
apartment, — and  in  these  days,  with  our  i-deas  of  com- 
fort and  ease,  would  be  considered  a  very  poorly 
furnished  one, — near  that  of  his  uncle's,  who  as  an 
unmarried  man,  and  a  soldier,  thought  very  little  of 
the  luxuries  of  life.  To  him,  a  good  glass  of  wine 
and  a  game  of  cards  after  the  performance  of  his  toil- 
some duty,  were  the  greatest  enjoyments  earth  could 
offer,  and  he  troubled  himself  very  little  about  any- 
thing else. 

He  was  now  on  duty  and  Gauthier  alone,  so  the 
young  man  could  give  himself  up  to  his  sad  thoughts, 
though  the  youth,  only  a  short  time  before,-  had 
arrived  at  the  court  of  Versailles  so  full  of  life  and 
courage. 

Gauthier  was  by  no  means  a  hypocrite,  but  his  pure 
heart  could  not  fail  to  be  filled  with  uneasiness,  nay 
with  fear  and  aversion,  at  the  life  of  the  court  of 
Versailles. 

What  a  horrible  contrast  this  excess  of  immorality 
and  corruption,  outward  splendor,  and  inward  poverty, 
hypocrisy  and  wickedness,  frivolity  and  superstition, 

107 


Js»«:i?.s^r!aK3^:^'^ 


loS 


A  ROYAL  ROBBER 


insatiable  desire  for  every  refined  pleasure  of  life,  and 
utter  corruption  of  the  soul — made  to  the  simplicity 
and  worthy,  honest  life  of  his  home. 

And  did  not  his  pure,  ardent  love  for  her,  the  deaf 
playmate  of  his  childhood,  attract  him?  Ah,  he  had 
not  written  to  her  yet,  writing  was  a  difficult  task,  for 
it  was  an  art  seldom  taught  young  nobles  in  those 
days,  but  still  in  the  two  letters  to  his  mother  which 
he  had  entrusted  to  a  friend  of  St.  Aignan's,  he  had 
sent  a  loving  message  to  her — nevertheless  no  answer, 
either  from  his  mother  or  Angeline,  had  as  yet  arrived. 

How  isolated  Gauthier  felt  in  the  whirl  of  court 
life,  for  his  military  position  in  the  king's  guard  was 
not  much  more  than  a  place  of  honor.  The  young, 
strong  man,  thirsting  for  activity,  would  have  preferred 
service  in  the  army,  the  constant  alternations  of  fate 
in  the  field  while  opposing  the  enemy — to  his  monot- 
onous duties  in  Versailles. 

Gauthier  expressed  this  to  his  uncle  and  the  Due 
de  St.  Aignan;  but  only  the  latter  thought  the  young 
man's  wish  natural,  and  promised  to  remember  his 
desire  at  a  suitable  time.  Captain  de  Torcy,  on  the 
contrary,  with  the  quiet  experience  of  riper  age,  ex- 
horted him  to  be  patient. 

Gauthier  thanked  heaven  that  he  had  at  least  found 
one  warm,  true  friend  at  court — for  such,  the  Due  de 
St.  Aignan  had  become.  And  was  he  not  in  the 
youth's  eyes,  a  pattern  of  a  courtier,  a  polished  man 
of  the  world? 


SA-.AAA.gfea««feai«. 


^>^w«i^»pp 


A   NOBLE    FRIEND  lOg 

St.»Aignan  was  amiability  itself.  Always  merry,  he 
bubbled  over  with  witticisms  and  anecdotes,  while  his 
attention  and  readiness  to  serve  the  poor  insignificanl 
novice,  filled  him  with  true  emotion  and  the  most 
sincere  gratitude. 

Gauthier  therefore  greeted  the  entrance  of  his  noble 
patron  and  friend  with  joy,  especially  as  he  was  just 
now  very  sad  again. 

And  indeed,  anyone  who  saw  St.  Aignan  enter  with 
his  handsome  face,  upon  which  the  eternal  smile 
rested  like  eternal  sunshine,  beaming  with  good 
nature — must  have  been  influenced  by  the  charm  which 
surrounded  him  and  banished  all  sadness  and  sorrow- 
ful thoughts.  •rEven  though  the  Due  had  no  money, 
which  was  often  the  case  on  account  of  his  lavish  ex- 
penditures, he  was  always  gay!  Now,  too,  the  fright 
and  thunder  of  Saint  Denis  was  long  since  forgotten, 
and  sunshine  and  merriment  reigned  in  this  frivolous 
heart. 

"  Venfre-saini-grisr  exclaimed  the  nobleman  at  his 
entrance  with  a  beaming  face,  while  he.  imitated  old 
Captain  de  Torcy  most  excellently.  "  Ventre-saini- 
gris!  We  come,  it  seems,  just  in  time  to  help  our 
friend  catch  the  blues;  or  is  Gauthier  de  Montferrand 
thi^pking  of  his  celebrity  after  death?" 

"How  would  that  help  me.  Monsieur  le  Due?" 
answered  Gauthier,  but.St.  Aignan  laughingly  in- 
terrupted him. 

"Monsieur  le  Due!"  said  he  scornfully,  "how  often, 


_i.'lrf.«  .._  ~  J^^S«tei-._  *,  _  : 


no 


A   ROYAL  ROBBER 


my  friend,  have  I  already  forbidden  you  to  call  me 
that  when  we  are  alone  together.  Yoy<  might  say,  mj^ 
friend  or  St.  Aignan,  that  sounds  much  more  in  har- 
mony with  my  friendship.  But,  my  young  friend,  you 
have  really  been  thinking  of  your  future  fame,  so  I. 
will  tell  you  how  it  may  be  gained  here!" 

"For  me  it  would  bloom  earliest  on  the  battlej> 
field,"  said  the  youth  with  a  sad  smile.  t 

"What  battlefield!"  exclaimed  St.  Aignan  laughing^. 
"One  must  make  it,  like  Mazarin.  To  satisfy. hi^ 
ambition,  he  betrayed  France — to  satisfy  his  avarice, 
he  ruined  her,  and  yet  he  has  obtained  at  this  court 
gratitude  and  immortality." 

"How?" 

"By  the  P&tds  a  la  Mazarin,  which  he  invented,  and 
which  are  still  a  favorite  dish  with  the  king  and  al{l 
his  courtiers." 

"You  are  and  always  will  be  a  jester,"  answered 
Gauthier  laughing.  "Still,  Cardinal  Mazarin  did  ?i 
great  deal  for  the  welfare  of  the  country  of  his  adop- 
tion." .  \ 

"In  which,  however,  he  forgot  his  own  welfare  as 
little  as  he  denied  his  descent,"  exclaimed  the  Duc^ 
sitting  down  upon  a  common  leather  chair  which  con- 
stituted the  principal  portion  of  the  furniture.  "My 
young  friend,  do  you  know  the  story  of  the  cardinal 
and  the  pamphlet  speculation?"  | 

Gauthier  answered  in  the  negative.  1 

*Xisten  then,    and    learn    something    Irom    the   olq 


'..'  **A  NOBLE   FRIEND*  fH 

gentleman:     Cardinal  Mazarin  was  once  informed  of 
a  shocking  pamphlet  against  him,  which  had  appeared 
at  a  book-store.     It  was  immediately  confiscated.     As 
the  dealer  naturally  doubled  the  price  of  the  paniph- 
let,  the  speculative  cardinal  sold  it  again  secretly  on  - 
his  own  account,  at  an  enormous  price.     By  this  com-     ■ 
mercialintrigue,  which  he  often  related  with  delight,    '^ 
he  made  a  thousand  pistoles. " 

"Clever, "  said  Gauthier  and  his  brow  darkened 
again,  "but  surely  not  worthy  of  a  man  like  Cardinal 
Mazarin.  Ought  he  not,  with  his  position  at  court 
and  in  the  country,  to  give  an  example  of  virtue? " 

St.  Aignan  laughed  loudly. 

"Virtue!"  he  exclaimed,  stroking  his  handsome  - 
beard.  "Virtue!  and  here  at  court?  My  young  friend, 
if  you  wish  to  make  your  fortune  at  court,  you  must 
be  excessively  liberal  in  your  ideas!  You  know  the 
pretty  little  story  of  Mademoiselle  La  SMuctrice  PUni' 
Potentcdre?  But  now,  how  should  you  know  it 
and  still  believe    that  virtue   breathes  in  this    region T* 

"Unfortunately,"  began  Gauthier;    but    St.    Aignan 
-interrupted  him,  and  exclaimed  with  an  ironical  smile. 

"Hush,  my  little  friend!  As  I  feel  drawn  towards 
you  as  if  by  magic,  and  we  have  concluded  a  friend- 
ship, r  consider  it  my  duty  as  a  friend  to  open  the 
lungs  of  your  conscience  so  wide,  that  you  will  be  in 
a  condition  to  breathe  and  bear  the  air  of  the  court. 
So  listen,  and  draw  a  conclusion  for  yourself." 

len  the  la?^  war  with  the  Netherlands  had   been 


^^^^^^^i^^Mliii^-  -w.^.£;^a^ 


IP'W^^PHIP^S'^S^^^!^'^?^ 


112  A   ROYAL  ROBBER 

decided  upon  in  the  noble  head  of  Louvois,  the  min- 
ister of  war,  It  was  resolved  upon  in  council.  But  it 
was  no  child's  play.  England  and  Spain  were  to  be 
feared;  it  was  necessary  therefore  to  take  precautionary-" 
measures.  One  of  the  first  measures  was  to  be  assured 
of  the  neutrality  of  Spain  and  the  alliance  of  Eng- 
land. The  Marquis  de  Villars  was  sent  to  Madrid  to 
make  the  Spanish  Cabinet  understand  what  an  inter- 
est it  had  in  weakening  its  natural  enemy,  the  United 
Netherlands.  But  an  ambassador  of  an  entirely  dif- 
ferent sort  must  be  sent  to  King  Charles  II  of  Eng- 
land." '  I 

"And  what  kind?"  asked  Gauthler.  j 

St.  Algnan  compressed  his  lips,  smiled,  and  ele- 
vated his  eyebrows  in  so  strange  a  fashion,  that  for  a^ 
moment  his  usually  handsome  face  resembled  that  of 
a  faun.  His  glance  was  so  diabolically  significant 
that,  for  the  first  time,  Gauthier  really  shrank  from 
his  noble  friend.  i 

With  a  burning  blush,  the  youth  again  asked  In  an 
embarrassed  tone,  "who  was  sent  as  ambassador 
to  England?"  I   - 

St.  Aignan  smiled  and  continued:  "His  Majesty 
Louis  XIV  announced  that  he  Intended  to  take  z. 
journey  to  Dunkirk  and  Invited  the  courtiers  to  accom- 
pany him.  ^All  the  magnificence  and  splendor  the 
king  could  display  was  paraded  on  this  occasion; 
thirty  thousand  men  preceded  or  followed  him.  His 
whole  court,  that  is,   the  richest  and  noblest  of  the 


'Mi^!■it&^i^iS«I^^^^Jl^^'■'^'''^■■^^^'^^^^^^'^ 


rilMhiii  f  • 


Pflpw^f^^f 


«* 


A  NOBLE   FRIEND"  II3 


yg-i 


nobility  of  Europe,  lae  most  graceful  and   most   in- 
tellectual ladies  in  the  world  accompanied  him." 

"Ladies?"  asked  Gauthier  with  astonishment. 

"Louis  XIV  is  never  without  women,"  answered  St. 
Aignan  laughing.  "Neither  in  the  field  nor  the  drive. 
His  motto  in  this  respect  was  and  is:  a  court  without 
ladies  is  a  year  without  spring  and  a  spring,  without 
roses!  But  to  the  point! — -the  queen  and  madame, 
who  was  alive  at  that  time — possessed  nearly  equal 
rank,  but,  and  here  the  satyr-like  expression  again  ap- 
peared on  his  face — but  unprecedented  sight,  then  fol- 
lowed in  one  carriage  the  two  mistresses  of  the  king: 
Madame  de  la  Valliere, — and  well,  you  know,  Gauthier!" 

"Madame  de  Montespan?" 

"Right,  who  at  that  time  often  sat  in  the  same 
large  English  carriage  with  the  king  and  queen." 

"Monsieur  le  Due!"  exclaimed  Gauthier. 

But  St.  Aignan  motioned  to  him  to  keep  Jsilence, 
while  he  said  laughing:  "The  best  is  yet  to  come. 
Madame  was  accompanied  by  a  charming  person,  who 
had  her  secret  instructions,  by  Louise  Renc^de  Pan- 
ankoet.  Mademoiselle  de  Queronaille,  she  was  the 
SMuctrice  plenipotentiairer 

"But,  it  is  not  possible." 

"The  commission  was  important,"  continued  St. 
Aignan  quietly,  with  a  pleasant  smile,  "and  the  role 
was  difficult."  . 

"How — I  doii*t  understan4/' 

8    Robber 


aii,:t^«aLia<.at^t^u^Ai.:>-^^..,.,,a.«,,.S£g^^^s  » 


A  RUYAL  ROBBER 


..■*&■  ■■■-.-■.■,■     j-   ". 

"She    niu§t   take  precedence   of    seven    well-knowtt 

mistresses  of  King  Charles  II,  who  at   that   time,  iall 
at  once  enjoyed  the    high   privilege,    so   much    sought, 
for  in  England,  of  driving  away  the   vexation    caused 
by  His  Majesty's  financial    embarrassments,    the  mur- 
murs of  his  people,  and  the  opposition  of  parliament." 

"Monsieur  le  Due! "  exclaimed  Gauthier,  flushing 
and  paling  by  turns,  "I  cannot  believe  whkt  you  say. 
One  must  despair  of  any  virtue,  any  morality." 

St.  Aignan  laughed  again,  and  said  so   quietly   that- 
Gauthier  was  horrified. 

"These  seven  mistresses  were:  Countess  Castle- 
maine — Miss  Stewart — Miss  Wells,  lady  of  honor  to 
the  Duchess  of  York — Nell  Gwyn,  one  of  the  gayest^ 
courtesans  of  the  time — Miss  d'Avis,  a  celebrated  act- 
ress— ^^the  dancer  Belle  Orkay,  and  finally,^  a  Moorish 
girl  named  Zinga. " 

The  young  man  looked  at  the  Due  in  amazement; 
while  the  eyes  of  the  latter,  as  he  perceived  the  in- 
creasing effect  produced  by  his  story,  gleamed  with 
an  expression,  that  resembled  the  triumph  of  a  fiend, 
though  he  retained  the  same  stereotyped  smile,  while 
he  continued  as  quietly  as  though  reading  a  passage 
from  the  Bible: 

"The  treaty  succeeded  far  better' than  was  expected. 
King  Charles  II  found  Mademoiselle  de  Queronaille 
charming,  and  upon  the  promise  of  a  few  millions  and 
madame's  consent  to  leave  Louise  de  Queronaille  in 
England;  King  Charles  II  of  England,  agreed  to  every- 
thing that  France  required.  |^ 


.  ^^'^ess^^^is^'^ 


A  NOBLE   FRIEND 


"5 


"I    am    bewildered!**     exclaiined    the    young    man, 
pressing  his  hand  upon  his  brow. 

"I  am   not,"    answered    St.    Aignan  gayly.     "But"   I 
will  have  to  relate  the  end." 

"  "Was  the  crime  not  yet  complete?"  exclaimed  Gau- 
thier  with  the  noble  indignation  of  a  youthful  heart 
that  still  believes  in  God  and  virtue. 

"Why  no,"  replied  the  Due  with  amiable  irony, 
"Mademoiselle  de  Queronaille  remained  in  England, 
where  King  Charles  made  her  Duchess  of  Portsmouth. 
Our  gracious  Lord  and  King,  the  great  Louis  XIV, 
presented  her  in  the  same  year  with  the  manorial 
estate  of  d' Aubigny; — that  estate  which  Charles  VII 
in  1622  gave  to  Johann  Stuart  as  a  reward  for  the 
great  and  important  services  which  he  rendered  the 
crown  of  France  in  the  war  against  England." 
.  St,  Aignan  was  silent.     A  longer  pause  ensued. 

"Monsieur  le  Due!"  began  Gauthier  at  last  in  a  very 
grave  tone,  "you  have  had  the  kindness  to  bestow 
upoh  me  the  honor  of  your  friendship.  I  know  not, 
in  truth,  how  I  shall  ever  thank  you  for  it ;  but  j'our 
affection  is  deeply  engraved  upon  my  heart.  Who 
else  at  court  would  have  instructed  me  so  kindly,  who 
would  have  distinguished  m^;  an  insignificant  youth, 
from  among  the  crowd,  and  with  truly  princely  kind- 
ness introduced  me  to  the  most  brilliant  entertain- 
ments? To  you — to  you  alone  I  am  indebted  for  this 
advantage,  and  for  so  much  besides." 

"Friend,"  exclaimed  St.  Aignan  laughing,  "I  b^ 
you  to  say  no  more.** 


•^^5BWE» 


ii6 


A    ReYAL  ROBBER 


"Let  me  speak,  my  noble  '  friend!"  continued  the 
youth  eagerly,  "for  it  is  time^ — I  mustV  [\ 

"Well,  then,  go  on,  Gauthier,  what  troubles  you?" 

"I  cannot  remain  here." 

"Oh— ho!"  I 

"Procure  me  a  place  in  the  army,  whatever  it  may 
be,  or  let  me  return  to  my  beloved  Limagne." 

"Gauthier!"  exclaimed  the  Due  with  an  expression 
of  astonishment,  which,  however,  was  contradicted  by 
a  lurking  glance  of  triumph. 

~  "Call  my  conduct  either  presumption  or  childish 
homesickness,  it  is  neither  the  one  nor  the  other. 
But  by  heaven — there  is  a  heavy  weight  upon 
my  heart;  I  cannot  breathe  this  air.  Perhaps  I  am  a 
fool  in  your  eyes — as  my  uncle  says — but  something 
urges  me  away — into  the  free  world, — if  possible  to  the 
field  of  honor.  You,  Monsieur  le  Due,  can  do  what 
you  will  with  His  Majesty,  procure  me  a  place  in  the 
army, — even  though  it  be  that  of  a  lieutenant — I  will 
do  honor  to  you,  to  my  native  country,  and  to  His 
Majesty." 

The  young  man  was  silent,  but  his  eyes  flashed, 
and  his  heart  beat  almost  audibly. 

St.  Aignan  remained  perfectly  unmoved.  The  strange 
smile  still  hovered  round  his  lips;  but  he  took  pains 
to  conceal  the  ironical  expression  which  generally 
rested  upon  them. 

"And  if,  my  young  friend,  I: were  prepared,  to  give 
you  a  proof  that  my  friendship  is  the  truest  and  most 
tender?" 


V>i«i;iWW,f  wair'iii»MiarA-!«atiliJifrit*itiii'!if -  itfctefrf  illilfli  iti 


"a   noble    FRIfeND*  117 

"Monsieur  le  Due!"  exclaimed  Gauthier  with  joyful 

astonishment. 

"Friendship  must  be  capable  of  every  sacrifice^ "  con- 
tinued St.  Aginan.  "To  part  from  you,  Gauthier, 
will  be  hard  for  me,  still  I  respect  your  pure,  noble 
heart,  the  impulse  which  inspires  you  to  flee  from 
this  Sodom  and  Gomorrah,  and  seek  on  the  battlefield 
a  glorious  future,  I  have — " 
'    "Oh,    what?    what?"    impetuously   cried    Gauthier. 

"A  place  for  you  In  the  army!"  replied  the  Due, 
drawing  the  commission  from  his  pocket. 

"My  friend.- 

"But— - 

"But,  what?" 

"It  requires  you  to  leave  Versailles  to-morrow  and. 
repair  to  the  frontier." 

"Anjgiivhere,  so  that  it  is  away  from  here,"  cried 
Gauthier. 

"Good,"  said  the  Due.  *'Then  we  will  have  a  gay 
night." 

"But  my  mother?     And  Angeline?" 

"Write  to  them  both,  and  give  the  letters  to  me. 
I  will  send  them  by  the  next  royal  messenger." 

"Oh,  thanks,  a  thousand,  thousand  thanks,"  cried 
the  delighted  Gauthier  shaking  the  Duc*s  hand  vehe- 
mently in  the  excess  of  his  joy,  "how  shall  I  repay 
you  for  all  this  love  and  kindness?" 

"Preserve  your  friendship  for  me,  Gauthier,  and 
return  a  hero  from  the  battles  which  await  you  in  the 


i'S^^tUtAt.i^^  ^-^S^ 


1x8 


A  ROYAL  ROBBER 


immediate  future.     But  now  write  your  letters  jand 

make  the  necessary  preparations.** 

"But  my  uncle,"  cried  the  young  man,  suddenly 
turning  pale. 

"It  is  an  order  from  Monseigneur  Louvois,  who 
summonses  you  to  Arras.  You  must  obey  your  coni- 
niander." 

"And  I  do  it  with  joy,"  cried  Gauthier,  his  face 
radiant  with  delight. 

"Well  then,  adieu  till  we  meet  again  this  evening 
at  my  hotel,  for  a  farewell  supper,"  said  the  Due, 
offering  his  hand  to  the  overjoyed  youth. 

But  when  the  door  had  closed  behind  him,  he  burst 
into  a  fiendish  laugh':  "Won,"  he  murmured,  "he  will 
leave  Paris  forever  on  the  day  that  Angeline  de  Fon* 
tanges  arrives  here." 


CHAPTER  X. 


THE  CHASE  AND  THE  DEBS. 


A  hunt  was  announced  to'take  place  in  the  woods 
of  Marly.  The  whole  court  was  invited;  and  th^ 
Master  of  the  Hunt,  the  Due  de  St.  Aignan,  as  well  as 
Madame  de  Montespan,  had  exhausted  themselves  in 
preparing  for  the  festival,  the  former  in  his  official 
position,  the  latter  as  hostess  to  the  king   and  court. 

It  was  necessary  for  her  to  lay  hold  of  every  oppor- 
tunity to  warm  the  heart  and  enchain  the  fancy  of  her 
royal  lover,  by  acts  of  consideration,  novelties,  and 
gayety.  To-day  a  strategy  was  to  be  executed  upon 
-whose  success  or  non-success  rested  the  whole  future 
of  the  marquise. 

'The  intrigue  with  Gauthier  de  Montferrand  and 
Mademoiselle  de  Fontanges,  conducted  by  these  cun- 
ning and  practised  allies,  had  succeeded  perfectly  up 
to  this  point. 

Mademoiselle  de  Fontanges  had,  in  fact,  arrived 
at  Versailles  on  the  very  day  on  which  Gauthier  left 
Paris.  The  youth,  in  a  former  letter  to  his  mother 
and  playmate,  had  described  with  indignation  the  state 
of  affairs  at  the  court,  excused  the  change  in  his 
position  by  the  impossibility  of  his  living  in  such  a 
.  11»        . 


t^hmii  -'"-iTi  Nmn^i 


'  >-^^^  ' 


I^O 


A  ROYAL  ROBBEH 


sphere,  and  lastly  entreated  both  to  preserve  their 
love  for  him. 

Angeline,  especially,  he  ardently  Implored  to  keep 
the  affection  which  had  bound  their  hearts  to  each 
other  from  earliest  childhood.  Her  image  would  ever 
rise  before  his  soul  like  a  guardian  angel  and  soon, 
soon— he  hoped  to  greet  her  and  lovely  Limagne  again 
as  a  man,  and  a  brave  soldier. 

To  be  sure  this  letter  did  not  arrive,  nor  were 
those  received  by  the  lovely  Marie  de  Fontanges 
written  by  Gauthier.  But,  in  their  inexperience  and 
innocence,  neither  party  saw  the  threads  of  the  net 
which  had  been  set  for  them,  and  in  which  they  were 
already  ensnared.  ^ 

Gauthier,  happy  at  escaping  from  the  court  of  Ver- 
sailles— hastened  to  Arras  and  his  new  path  of  life 
the  more  joyfully,  that  youthful  courage  and  vigor 
pointed  to  the  field  of  honor  as  his  only  true  position. 

Mademoiselle  de  Fontanges,  on  her  arrival  at  Ver- 
sailles, was  very  much  surprised  not  to  find  her  cousin. 
But  he  had  only — as  she  learned — gone  to  the  army 
for  a  short  time,  honored  with  a  high  and  important 
commission.  I 

He  would  return  withi^  two  or  three  weeks.  Be- 
sides, Angeline  soon  felt  that  she  would  make  herself 
ridiculous  if  she  particularly  noticed  this  short  absence 
of  her  former  playmate.  To  be  sure,  she  grieved  in 
secret;  but  the  splendor  and  magnificence  which  met 
her  on  every  side,  confused  and  filled  her   mind  with 


mf^^^J^fS^gg^^^l^^-  '  -  -  '^m-vi^,  _  ^^WBBRJ- 


THE  CHASE  AND  THE  DEER  121 


intoxicating  delight.  Did  not  the  usually  haughty 
Marquise  de  Montespan  treat  her  exactly  like  a  lov- 
ing mother,  for  she  could  not  immediately  enter  upon 
her  position  at  court  with  the  queen.  Was  there  not 
a  little  court  of  charming  young  men  about  her,  at 
whose  head  stood  Gauthier's  noble  friend,  of  whom 
he  had  spoken  so  highly  in  his  letters,  the  Due  de  St. 
Aignan,  the  principal  favorite  of  the  king.  Her  cousin, 
so  said  the  Due,  had  especially  recommended  her  to 
his  care.  And  what  flattery,  what  praises  of  her 
beauty,  poured  into  her  ears,  and  found  a  joyful  echo 

In  the  vain  little  heart.  » 

I 

How  the  marquise  overwhelmed  her  with  presents 
of  every  kind — how  the  noble  lady  hastened  to  have 
new  and  beautiful  dresses  made  for  her  on  the  spot, 
for  she  could  not  allow  her  to  be  seen  at  court  in  her 
country  clothes. 

Angeliue  was  intoxicated  with  delight,  and  when 
the  relative  from  Clermont,  who  had  brought  her  to 
Versailles, — it  was  the  same  one  who  had  secretly 
brought  Gauthier's  letters  to  her — returned,  Angeline 
could  not  sufficiently  praise  her  cordial  reception  and 
happiness  In  the  letter  to  her  mother,  which  she  en- 
trusted to  her  care. 

And  yet  the  greatest  joy  was  still  before  her  for 
she  had  not  seen  the  king, .  .  .  Louis  XIV,  the 
greatest  monarch  on  earth.  How  many  times  the 
thought  of  the  joy  of  being  preferred  by  such  a  king 
had  made  the  simple  child  from  Limagne  strangely 


122 


A   ROVAL  &OSBER 


happy.  At  these  moments,  delight,  blended  wi<3i  a 
sweet  tremor,  thrilled  her  whole  being;  and  such 
moments  occurred  more  and  more  frequently,  for  what 
Mademoiselle  de  Fontanges  now  heard  and  saw  ol 
the  universal  enthusiastic  adoration  of  the  king,  far 
surpassed  all  she  had  learned  from  her  relative  on  the. 
journey.  ' 

The  result  of  all  this,  as  well  as  the  numberless  new 
and  powerful  impressions  which  rushed  upon  her  mind 
and  excited  her  nervous  system  in  the  highest  degree, 
was  that  the  old  dreams  awoke,  and  transported  the 
dazzled^  bewildered  child  into  a  kind  of  fairy  world, 
whose  shining  central  point -was  the  great  king. 

Angeline  thought  of  no  evil  in  all  this ;  but 
to  be  distinguished  or  even  loved  by  such  a  prince 
ahd  knight,  to  see  him  at  her  feet,  to  outshine  all 
others — such  a  fortune  was  scarcely  to  be  thought  of 
and  comprehended.  And  did  she  not  have  that  won- 
derful dream,  only  a  short  time  before  her  summons 
to  the  court?  The  dream  of  the  mountain  and  the 
golden,  purple  cloud  on  which  she  floated  in  such 
blessedness?  And  had  not  Per^  Hi' lire— who  was  so 
celebrated  for  the  interpretation  of  dreams— said: 
"she  would   obtain  a  distinguished  position  at  court?". 

And  "dreams  come  from  God"-— said  the  priest. 
Suppose  she  had  been  destined  by  God  and  fate;  even 
from  her  birth,  to  please  the  king  by-  .her  beauty? 
Must  God  therefore  desert  her.  Oh,  certainly  not, 
I^uis  was  so  good,  so  noble i 


r  '  THE  CHASE  AND  THE  DEER  1^3 

Only  one  thing  Angeline  did  not  observe,  that  she 
had  already  forsaken  one  person,  forsaken  and  almost 
forgotten  her  cousin  and  playmate,  poor  Gauthier. 
'  The  marquise  always  had  •  some  new  pleasure  or 
surprise,  so  that  Angeline  had  no  time  forreflection. 
Then,  too,  she  had  many  things  to  learn;  court  eti- 
.quette,  how  one  must  deport  oneself,  aind  many  such 
things — in  which,  however,  Madame  de  Montespan 
was  very  careful  not  to  disturb  the  expression  of 
childish  innocence  and  country  simplicity  which  she 
found  in  the  good  child;  for  it  was  on  this  very  charm 
of  novelty  that   she   depended   to  ensnare    the    king. 

Marie  Angeline  knew  not  how  she  could  prove  to 
the  noble  lady  the  overflowing  gratitude  of  her  heart. 
She  vowed  a  thousand  times — she  would  always 
remember  the  marquise  with  filial  affection,  and 
the  marquise  seemed  to  listen  to  the  assurance  with 
pleasure. 

At  last  the  day  approached  on  which  Mademoiselle 
de  'Fontanges  was  to  see  Louis  XIV  for  the  first  time. 
It  was  the  day  of  the  great  hunting  party  in  the  woods 
of  Marly.  The  marquis©.  In  honor  of  the  occasion, 
had  presented  Angelin2  with  a  very  tasteful  dress 
which  the  young  girl  had  already  put  on,  and  indeed 
she  looked  enchantingly  beautiful  in  It!  Her  tall 
figure  was  clad  in  a  riding  habit  of  royal-blue  velvet, 
trimmed  on  the  arms  and  waist  with  rich,  white  lace. 
The  front,  falling  slightly  apart,  disclosed  a  closely 
fitting  vest  of  white  satin   and    a    skirt   of    the    same 


^^^^''^^-"^^■^'^^^iininitirim^^ 


"4 


A  ROYAL  ROBBER 


material.  A  royal  blue  velvet  cap,  from  which  nodded 
a  blue  and  white  feather,  rested  coquettishly  upon 
her  luxuriant  hair.  A  costly  pearl  necklace,  the  only 
inheritanec  of  the  Fontanges  family,  rose  and  fell 
upon  the  matchless  bosom,  whose  exquisite  outlines 
were  fully  revealed.  | 

Even  the  Marquise  de  Montespan  herself  wasastoat 
ished  when  Mademoiselle  de  Fontanges  entered  the 
room  in  this  costume.  The  young  girl  was  indeed  a 
dazzling  beauty,  and  moreover,  by  her  wealth  of  au- 
burn hair  and  her  unusually  white  complexion,  whose 
effect  was  heightened  by  the  dress  she  wore — 3.  beauty 
of  no  common  order.  A  single  glance  at  that  face  and 
figure  could  not  fail  to  recall  one  of  the  exquisite 
white  marble  statues  which  the  old  masters  of  antiquity 
have  bequeathed  us.  '^    j 

Was  it  any  marvel,  that  in  the  first  mo- 
ment of  astonishment  a  feeling  of  envy  and 
jealousy,  a  doubt  of  the  wisdom  of  her  purpose,  arose 
in  the  mind  of  Madame  de  Montespan?  But  thfese 
emotions  soon  vanished  in  the  proud  consciousness  of 
being  a  thousand  times  superior  to  her  chosen  rival  in 
intellect,  wit,  and  the  art  of  influencing  and  guiding. 
Angeline  was  beautiful,  but  she  was  only  to  be  looked 
upon  as  a  charming,  insipid  doll  for  a  great  royal 
child.  And  the  one  thing  necessary,'  the  prudent 
woman  had  already  secured:  the  most  ab.solute  grati- 
tude and  dependence  on  the  part  of  her  prot^g^e.       i 

Angeline,  delighted  at  the  praise  lavished  upon  her 


^iim 


.ii..^.^.^.....,,..^^..^. 


mmi 


--^-^^'^^ 


^^ 


iiM.  I 


w^^m^' 


tHE  CHASE  AND  THE  DEER  1^$ 

from  the  Jips  of  the  aristocratic  lady,  and  at  the 
thought  of  being  presented  to  the  king,  once  tnore 
poured  forth  her  tender,  child-like  love  and  gratitude 
for  Madame  de  Montespa;n.  "Only  be  happy,  dear 
child,"  said  the  latter,  gazing  kindly  at  the  beautiful 
girl  and  drawing  her  towards  her,  "arid  promise  me 
one  thing!" 

"Everything,     everything,"     said    the   young   girl, 
covering  Madame   de   Montespan's  little    hands   with 
kisses,  "how  can  I  thank  you  enough   for   your    kind- 
■  ness?" 

"Only  promise  me,"  continued  the  elder  lady,  "under 
every  circumstance  to  do  nothing  without  the  triie 
and  loving  counsel  of  your  maternal  friend." 

"I  swear  it!"  exclaimed  the  girl,  in  the  exuberance 
of  her  gratitude. 

"You  are  still  young,  still  inexperienced,"  continued 
the  marquise,  "how  should  you  know  how  to  conduct 
yourself  towards  the  court,  the  king,  and  the  intrigues 
of  the  wicked.  Promise  me  therefore — whatever  way 
your  fate  ma}'  shape  itself — in  every  secret  of  your 
heart  to  confide  in  me  as  your  true  friend,  and  always 
to  act  according  to  my  advice. " 

"Oh  how  gladly  I  promise  it,"  said  Angeline,  "1 
feel  deeply  how  far  I,  a  poor  awkward  girl  from  the 
country,  am  wanting  in  everything,  and  how  greatly 
you  surpass  me  in  intellect  and  amiability.  AIM  am 
I  have  become  through  you,  whom  I  call  with  pride 
my   second    mother.     To  you,    therefore,    as   to   my 


S^^^i^^.^i^l^-^'i^^J.^i&.^^^^^^'f^.n  ^:^ 


^m^^m^ 


126 


A  ROYAL  ROBBER 


mother,  shall  belong  the  fullest  confidence  of  p^y 
heart  in  the  future."  And  Aageline  laid  her  hand  In 
that  of  the  marquise  to  seal  the  promise. 

At  this  moment  the  signal  of  the  approach  of  His 
Majesty,  and  the  court  echoed  on  the  air,  for  Fran- 
9oise  Athenais,  Marquise  de  Montespan,  expected  hipi 
at  Marly  as  her  guest. 

Angeline  de  Fontanges  trembled,  for  a  moment  her 
cheek  flushed  and  paled  by  turns,  but  she  soon  re- 
gained her  composure  and  apparent  coldness. 

"Come,  my  child!"  said  the  marquise.  "We  will 
receive  His  Majesty  in  the  most  cordial  manner,  as 
befits  so  great  a  king  and  gracious  a  gentleman."      ! 

And  motioning  to  the  rest  of  the  ladies  of  her  suite, 
who  were  in  the  ante-room,  Madame  de  Montespap 
advanced  to  meet  the  hunting  party,  consisting  of 
numberless  horsemen  and  carriages.  1 

They  were  to  partake  of  a  little  breakfast  at  Marly, 
and  then  proceed  to  the  chase.  j 

The  notes  of  the  horn,  the  baying  of  dogs,  cracking 
of  whips,  and  trampling  of  horses,  sounded  like  th6 
roar  of  a  tempest.  Such  a  tumult  might  well  hav^ 
overpowered  the  lamentations  of  a  whole  nationj  at 
least  it  drowned  the  voices  of  many  a  conscience^ 
while  it  reminded  the  distant  listeners  of  the  legenc 
of  the  wild  huntsman. 

The  royal  coach  now  came  in  sight.  The  master  oi 
the  hounds,  M.  le  Due,  de  St.  Aignan,  who  rode  be-- 
side  it  himself,  sprang  from  his   foam-covered   horse 


THE  CHASE  AND  THE  DEER 


127 


and  opened  the  door  for  His  Majesty.  Louis  XIV 
alighted  and  stepped  under  the  portals,  decorated 
with  flowers  and  foliage,  which  welcomed  him  with 
-their  flattering  inscription,  as  pleasantly  as  the  woman 
who  had  so  long  been  the  mistress  of  his  heart  greeted 
him  in  words. 

But  the  marquise  needed  only  one  glance  to  be 
assured  that  His  Majesty  was  far  from  being  in  the 
mood  she  had  desired.  Louis  XIV,  so  fickle  in  his 
love,  was  weary  of  Madame  de  Montespan  and  there- 
fore her  kindness  and  flattering  attentions  troubled 
him  much  more  than  her  former  caprices,  her.  obsti- 
nacy, and  the  desire  to  rule  she  liad  of  ten  manifested. 

As  yet  he  had  not  dared  publicly  to  break  with  one 
who  had  borne  him  six  children,  legitimate  princes 
and  princesses,  and  therefore  accepted  for  to-day  an 
invitation,  which  annoyed  and  put  him  out  of  humor. 

The  penetration  of  the  marquise  observed  all  this; 
while  her  royal  lover's  manner  plunged  a  thousand 
daggers  into  her  heart,  which  she  multiplied  a 
hundred  fold  by  the  observation  that  the  cowardly, 
cringing  world  of  the  court,  already  began  to  be  cooler 
toward  her. 

At  this  moment  she  could  have  rent  the  father  of 
her  children  in  pieces  like  an-enraged  lioness,  and  yet 
she  loved  him,  and  could  not  give  him  up — him  and 
the  thought  of  being  the  joint  ruler  vof  France.  For 
this  reason  she  now  played  her  va  banque!  and  the  last 
trump  had. slipped  from  her   hand.     The   king    must 


128  A   ROVAL  ROBBER 

remain  hers,  and  if  her  own  power  was  no  longer 
sufficient,  then,  (with  the  aid  of  hell)  by  the  help  of  a 
stranger!  How  divinely  beautiful  the  lovely  Mad- 
emoiselle de  Fontanges  appeared,  as  she  stood  among 
the  other  ladies  in  the  train  of  the  Marquise  de  Mont- 
espan,  lovelier  than  ever  in  the  sweet  confusion  into 
which  her  approaching  presentation  to  the  king  had 
thrown  the  still  inexperienced  child  of  Limagne.  But 
poor  child,  the  king  in  his  ill-humor  scarcely 
sees  you.  The  red  hair  only  brings  an  expression  of 
scorn  upon  his  lips,  and  turning  indifferently  away,  he 
says  to  St.  Aignan  with  a  mocking  laugh. 

"That  wolf  will  not  eat  us!" 

Madame  de  Montespan  was  fairly  crushed.  i 

"To  the  chase!"  cried  the  king,  and  without  even 
touching  the  luxurious  breakfast  that  was  prepared 
the  party  withdrew   into  the   dense   woods   of  Marly. 

With  tears  in  her  eyes  and  despair  in  her  heart 
Madame  de  Montespan — as  was  customary  on  such 
occasions — entered  the  king's  hunting  carriage  and  sat 
down  beside  His  Majesty.  But  Louis  neither  saw 
the  tears,  nor  heard  the  soft  reproaches  of  the  lady. 
He  was  thinking  to-day  of  very  different  things 
of  Louvois  and  his  military  plans  and  of  the  latest 
disagreeable 'intelligence  from  the  Netherlands,  from 
Spain,  and  especially  from  Alsace,  which  had  informed 
him  that  the  free  German  imperial  city  of  Strassbtirg 
would  not  submit  to  French  government,  nor  respond 
to  the  eager  desires  of  the  king.     Every  contradiction 


tHE  cHaSI  and  the  deer 


129 


was  an  abomination  to  Louis  XIV  and  now  came 
tbat  of  the  one  miserable  city  toward  which  he  cher- 
ished the  best  intentions. 

The  chase  would  divert  his  thoughts— but  nothing 
else/  On  reaching  the  appointed  spot  he  fired  with 
fierce  delight  at  the  game  which  was  driven  past.  But 
this  murder  soon  became  tedious.  He  pressed  farther 
into  the  forest,  leaving  the  carriages,  ladies,  and  suite 
far  behind,  till  at  last  he  entirely  disappeared.  The 
master  of  the  hounds,  who  never  left  his  side  in  a 
huntr"nilist,  however,  according  to  His  Majesty's  ex- 
press command,  continued  the  chase,  and  make  the 
court  believe  that  the  king  was  still  at  the  head  of 
the  gay,  blood-thirst}^  horde. 

The  trampling  of  hundreds  of  horses  resounded  from 
the  distance,  the  wild  boars,  red  deer,  and  does,  broke 
through  the  bushes  and  hedges  in  herds,  the  horns 
sounded  merrily  through  the  dark  aisles  of  the  leafy 
dome  while  the  flourishes  of  the  trumpets  quickly 
■alternated  from  "  a  la  mentef"  to  "d  la  vue"  .... 
the  hounds  bayed  as  if  mad;  a  magnificent  young  stag 
dashed  by.     But  all  this  left  the  king  unmoved. 

His  trusty  gun-bearer — old  Moustache,  who  had 
taught  the  young  Dauphin  to  load  his  ^gun  when  a 
child — might  walk  close  behind  him  with  the  loaded 
Weapon  ready  to  hand  it  to  the  royal  hunter  but  Louis 
did  not  take  it.  With  deep  and  gloomy  clouds  upon 
his  brow,  he  thought  over  all  the  political  embarrass- 
ments into  which  Louvois  had  drawn   himj    of   those 

^    Jiobbtr 


lifitffeifl 


*Jlfe3S£t__*  J 


I30 


A  ROYAL  ROBBEft 


into  which  his  connection  with  Madame  de  Montespan 
had  brought  him,  and  how  he  could  break  the  last 
threads  with  which   the  marquise,    who    had    becon^e 


wearisome,  still  bound  him. 


"I  am  tired  of  women,"  said  he  to  himself,  "and 
will  never  again  wear  the  chain  of  love.  Pride,  am- 
bition, and  desire  to  rule  are  the  only  reasons  whidh 
make  them  yield  their  charms  to  princes.  I  will  be 
free,  perfectly  free!"  j 

At  this  moment  a  loud"  scream  ftill  upon  his  ear, 
and  a  strange  vision  appeared  in  the  distance.  i 

A  horse,  white  as  new  fallen  snow,  which  seemed 
to  have  become  wild  with  fright,  dashed  along  the 
path  at  furious  speed.  It  bore,  she  could  scarcely 
keep  in  the  saddle,  a  beautiful,  slender  form  in  |a 
white  satin  dress;  the  royal-blue  velvet  hunting  dress 
floated  over  the  back  of  the  animal.  The  plumes  on 
her  little  hat  waved  proudly  in  the  air,  as  if  nodding 
a  merry  greeting  to  the  green  woods. 

A  smile  of  bitter  scorn  played  round  the^ corners  of 
the4<ing*s  handsome  mouth.  j 

At  the  first  glance  he  had  recognized  the  red-haired 
country  beauty,  who  had  been  presented  to  him  an 
hour  before.  She  was  probably  still  inexperienced  in 
riding  and  hunting,  for  the  horse  had  apparently 
runway  with  her.  The  king,  with  a  certain  amount  of. 
malice,  was  really  anticipating  the  moment  in  which 
the  horse  would  throw  her. 

A  still  more  piercing  cry  was  heard. 


THE  CHASE  AND  THE  DEES  I31 

;  A  powerful  wild  boar  had  forced  its  way  through 
the  hedge  opposite  to  the  horse — the  terrified  animal 
reared,  and  the  rider  fell. 

The  bristly  monster  now  rushed  toward  her.  All 
this  was  the  occurrence  of  a  single  moment;  but  in 
this  same  moment  Louis  XIV  was  again  the  chivalric 
prince,  that — apart  from  his  political  conduct— he  was 
rightly  considered.  With  the  quickness  of  thought 
he  had  seized  the  proffered  gun  from  the  hands  of 
Moustache  ...  a  shot  .  .  .  and  the  wild  boar  fell 
dead  upon  the  ground. 

Louis  XIV  was  the  best  shot  in  France. 

The  animal  fell  and  covered  the  surrounding  grass 
with  blood.  The  horse  had  fled,  hut  his  rider  still 
lay  motionless  upon  the  ground. 

"Let  us  go  to  her  assistance,"  said  the  king  to 
Moustache,  as  soon  as  the  smoke  had  dispersed  and 
his  quick  glance  had  surveyed  the  position  of  things,— 
"To  be  sure  it  is  only  a  fox,  but  we  are  sorry  for  itl** 

And  Louis  XIV,  followed  by  his  gun-bearer,  ap- 
proached the  place  where  Mademoiselle  de  Fontanges 
had  fallen  insensible. 

But  what  new  surprise  awaited  the  king. 
•  Impossible!  that  could  not  be  the  maiden, 
whom  only  an  hour  before,  a»d  even  at  this  moment 
he  had  so  harshly  scorned?  the  little  girl  from 
the  country,  whom  in  his  angry  mood  he  had  found 
so  ugly? 

By  all  the  saints  and   the  Virgin  of  Saint  Germain 


laegii^g^i^jK.a 


l$t 


A  fteVAL  tlOBB^ft 


en    Laye    this    was    not    she,    this    was    a    charmisng 
creature  who  lay  stretched  before  him.  What  bewitch 
ing  yet  childlike  features!  what  a  dazzlingly  fair  com- 
plexion! what  a  magnificent  figure! 

Oh! .  how  fortunate,  that  the  branches  of  a  thick  bush 
bad  lessened  the  force  with  which  she  was  thrown 
from  the  horse  and  broken  her  fall.  Insensible  from 
fright,  by  this  fortunate  circumstance  she  had  slipped 
softly  to  the  earth  upon  a  mound  thickly  overgrown 
with  grass  and  moss,  upon  whose  upper  edge  rested 
the  pale,  little  head  as  if  sleeping,  while  the  delicate 
limbs  and  feet  scewrcely  touched  the   lower  portion. 

An#what  a  peculiar,  strange,  novel  charm  the  hither- 
to despised  auburn  hair  produced  upon  him.  Its  lux- 
uriance, and  the  harmony  between  the  unusual  color- 
ing and  the  whiteness  and  delicacy  of  the  skin, 
through  which  the  smallest  blue  veins  gleamed  softly. 

Louis  XIV  stood  enchanted,  entranced!  He,  whose 
whole  nature  was  so  thoroughly  sensual,  glowed  with 
delight.  He,  who  only  a  few  moments  before  had 
wished  to  renounce  all  women,  was  intoxicated, 
a  charm  hitherto  unknown,  enthralled  him. 
.  He  knelt  by  the  side  of  the  fainting  girl,  took  a 
little,  golden  flask  from  his  pocket,  put  his  arm  under 
the  beautiful  head,  andl^t  her  inhale  its  invigorating 
contents. 

Angellne's  bosom  heaved,  the  stiffness  of  death  dis- 
appeared from  her  limbs,  her  breath  came  more  and 
more  quickly,  and    in    a    few  moments    the  ■  beautifful 


^    THE  CHASE  AND  THE  DEER  -  J3S 

blue  eyes  opeaed  with  an  expression  as  enchanting  as 
if  the  rosy  finger-tips  o£  Aurora  had  drawn  aside. the 
last  morning  clouds  from  the  rising  sun. 

And  into  what  a  sun  shegaz'ed!  Into  what  wonderful 
deep  eyes,  full  of  a  dark,  passionate  fire,  full  of  strong, 
deep  love,  and  at  the  same  time  nobleness  and  great- 
ness. Angel ine  did  not  know  what  had  happened  to 
her.  Where  was  she,  was  this  all  a  dream,  was  it 
truth,  was  she  living,  or  just  awakening  into  another 
world?  And  upon  whose  breast  did  her  head  rest  so 
softly? 

A  dim  remembrance  of  the  last  few  moments  dawned 
upon  her,  the  horse's  running  away,  her  fear,  the  hor- 
ror^  then  a  wild  boar  bursting  through  the  bushes 
and  the  horse's  rearing,  her  fall,  and  the  loss  of 
consciousness.  And  there  lay  the  monster  dead  on 
the  ground,  bathed  in  his  blood.  But  who  had  killed 
him?  and  who  embraced  her  now  so  gently,  and 
tenderly?  Angeline  started  -  upi  and  her  eyes  opened 
wide,  she  gazed  in  astonishment,  questioningly,  into 
the  face  of  her  deliverer. 

And  she  almost  lost  consciousness  again! 
.     Just  heaven!  was  it  not  the  king,  to  whom    she  had 
been  presented  that  morning?  the  king,  of  whom    she 
heard  so  much  that  was  noble?  The  great  Louis  XIV, 
the  sun  of  France  and  the  world? 

"Sire!"  she  exclaimed,  growing  deadly  pale,  while 
a  heaven  of  delight  beamed  from  her  face. 

But  the  king   laid  her  head  gently  upon  his  breast. 


frof^^'^^^f^^^^ 


*34 


:  V 


A  ROYAL  ROBBER 


pressed    a  burning    kiss    upon    her   brow,  and    said: 
"Rest  forever  upon  this  heart,  it  is  the  greatest  and 

inost  loving  one  that  beats  in  all  France."       | 

He  then  motioned    to  Moustache    to    withdraw  and 

bring  a  hunting  coach  to  take  the  unfortunate  girl    to 

Marly.  '  I 


i 


'^Ssjsn.- 


CHAPTER  Xt 

A   DISTINGUISHED   RASCAL. 

Louis  XIV  was  alone  with  his  favorite,  the  Due  de 
St.  Aignan.  After  enduring  the  daily  torture  of  an 
endless  tedium  at  the  "Lever,"  the  " grandes  entries" 
the  "secondes  entries  "  and  the  "entrie  du  cabinet"  with 
the  heroic  courage  necessary  to  a  monarch,  he  had 
made  use  of  the  entri-temps  to  be  alone  with  the  Due 
at  least  for  a  few  moments.  The  king  was  now  often 
in  the  mood  to  seek  solitude,  if  in  fact  there  had  been 
such  a  thing  for  him.  And  yet  who  in  all  his  broad, 
beautiful  kingdom  was  more  exposed  to  intellectual 
solitude  than  he? 

Can  there  be  a  greater  solitude  than  that  which 
surrounds  the  wearer  of  a  crown?  and  does  not  this 
very  solitude  generate  pride.  The  less  one  is  sur- 
rounded by  mankind,  the  more  superior  he  considers 
himself.  ■ 

To-day  the  Ill-humor  of  Louis  XIV   had  exalted  his 
unbounded  pride  to  the  uttermost.     It  was  bad  weather 
at  court,  and  every  one  trembled  at  the  appearance  of - 
the  monarch. 

But  what  was  the  cause  of    the    anger?      Perhaps 

«ven  the  king  was  not  himself  aware  of  the^ason. 

135 


iaaaitttfiV'^i'^fg-i  ^^InrAiiiM'a^'ffiTriiiilirtfifaiaMfiiir  - 


136 


A   ROYAL   ROBBSK 


The  position  of  Louis  XIV  in  regard  to  Madame  de 
MonteSpan  became  more  and  more  uncomfortable. 
Since  the  last  hunting  party  in  the  woods  of  Marly 
she  had  lost  all  charm,  for  the  king's  mind  was  filled 
with  but  one  image  which  should  not  be  disturbed  by 
the  shadow  of  a  Montespan  and  yet  it  did  so  every 
moment.  I 

"Heaven  and  Hell!"  cried  Louis,  stamping  his  foot 
^angrily,  and  casting  a  dark,  proud  glance  towards 
heaven  as  if  he  would  demand  its  obedient  co-opera- 
tion. "We  will  yet  be  able  to  banish  the  shadow  of 
a  woman  who  has  become  wearisome  to  us."  | 
"-St.  Aignan  stood  at  a  little  distance.  With  the 
inborn  craftiness  of  a  true  courtier,  he  suspected  what 
was  gnawing  in  the  breast  of  his  royal  friend,  and 
quietly  enjoyed  his  approaching  triumph  over  his 
hated  rival  in  the  favor  of  the  sovereign.  j 

But  neither  he,  the  marquise,  nor  the  court  knew 
anything  of  the  affair  of  Mademoiselle  de  Fontanges, 
excepting  that  Moustache  had  rescued  her.  To  be 
sure,  everyone  also  knew  that  Moustache,  the  king's 
gun-bearer,  was  His  Majesty's  shadow  in  the  chase, 
and  never  left  him.  Still  he  alone  had  arrived  at 
Marly  with  the  young  girl.  The  king  said  nothing 
about  it,  and  Mademoiselle  de  Fontanges,  it  was  sup- 
posed, had  not  seen  the  king  on  this  occasion.  She 
must  be  silent,  because  it  was  the  king's  will;  and  is 
It  not  in  many  cases  much  more  blessed  to  be  silent 
than  to  speak?     Besides,  Angeline  was  secretly  aston- 


A  WSTINGUISHED   RASCAL 


«37 


isfaed  at  herself;  she  had  never  thought  she   possessed 
so  much  talent  for  the  court  and  could  govern   herself 
so,  well.     But  she  was  very  glad  that  fate  had  renroved 
her  cousin  Gauthier  for  the  present.      He  was  a  good, 
dear  boy,  but,  what  was  he  to  do   at   court.     Angeline 
now  liked  to  think  of  him  as  a  hero,    a  brave   general 
on  the  field  of  honor.     Outside  of  this  she  thought 
but  little  of  her  old  playmate,  in  fact,  she  could   not,- 
for  she   was   now  so    much  occupied  with  her  toilette, 
and  no  delight  can^compare  with  triumphant  vanity. 
-     Unobserved    she    drew    from    her  bosom   a  ring,  in 
which  a  large,  wonderfully  brilliant  diamond  sparkled, 
but  what  was  its  lustre  and  brilliancy  in  comparison 
to  her  eyes?     And,  how  she  covered  it  with  hot  glow- 
ing   kisses;     a-nd    when    she    glanced    up,  how  like  a 
queen  she  looked! 

Louis  XIV  was  alone  with  St.  Aignan,  but  he  was 
gloomy,  something  was  gnawing  at  his  heart.  St. 
Aignan  vainly  exhausted  himself  in  witticisms  and  an- 
ecdotes. Louis  XIV  was  philosophically  inclined,  and 
looked  scornfully  down  upon  the  court  and  men. 

"You  all  try  to  rule  me,"  he  cried  angrily.  "All 
who  surround  me,  but  especially  Colbert,  Louvois, 
and  Madame  de  Montespan." 

St.  Aignan  silently  triumphed;  but  he  was  a  courtier, 
striving  for  his  own  advancement. 

He  therefore  first  thought,  by  flattering  words,  to 
present  the  absurdity  of  such  a  project;  how  could 
common  mortals  dare  to  desire  to  aspire  to  a  son  of 


t^gii^agLi-  c^' 


mm 


j^^^ 


IjS  A   ROYAL   ROBBER  I 

the  Gods,  to  a  Louis  XIV,  whom  the  world  called 
DieU'Donni.  In  a  masterly  and  innocent  manner  he 
recalled  the  most  amusing  anecdotes  from  the  lives  of 
Richelieu,  Mazarin,  and  the  most  celebrated  mistresses 
of  present  and  former  times,  letting  the  king  plainly 
feel  the  yoke  which  Louvois  and  Madame  de  Montes- 
pan    wished    to    lay    upon    him. 

-'With  delight  he  watched  the  veins  of  the  king's 
brow  swelling  with  anger,  for  he  was  more  jealous  of 
his  power  and  authorit}'  than  any  former  sovereign  of 
France. 

St.  Aignan,  however,  like  a  clever  courtier,  did  not 
let  this  anger  come  to  a  second  outbreak,  while  he 
slyly — lamenting  the  dizzy  height  of  a  throne— pointed 
out  the  happiness  of  common  men,  'who  were  allowed 
to  love  according  to  the  free  choice  of  their  hearts. 

The  king  sighed  o  .  .St.  Aignan  knew  enough;  like 
a  skillful  artist  he  sketched  a  picture  of  happy  love 
in  the  most  glowing  and  life-like  colors,  and  touched 
so  skillfully  upon  the  picture  of  the  beautiful  Made- 
moiselle de  Fontanges,®that  the  king  rose  and  stepped 
to  the  window  to  hide  his  emotion. 

"Ah,  yes,"  said  the  king,  and  then  remained  lost  in 
thought  for  some  time.  "Ah,  yes,  that  was  a  delight- 
ful age,  when  we,  almost  a  boy,  felt  the  first  sensa- 
tions of  love,  and  were  free  to  follow  our  own  heart's 
choice;  where  is  she  now,  the  sweet  Frontenac? .... 
and  that  enchanting  time,  when  the  fiery  Olympia 
Mazarin,  the  niece  of  the  proud  cardinal,  almost   died 


..^^^^^^..^..^^^.^^....A^  - 


DISTINGUISHED    RASCAL  I39 

ttom  lirve  di  us  oh!  we  can  still  see  the  charming 
little  dimple  in  her  cheek; — the  large,  beautiful 
Sicilian  eyes,  which  flashed  like  lightning — full  of 
the  wild  delicious  fire  of  love — and  then — the  tender 
La  Valleire,  with  her  golden  hair,'  sparkling  brown 
eyes,  and  rosy  mouth — oh!  heaven,  how  we  loved  her,. 
^almost  timidly  and  with  reverent  affection." 

But  St.  Aignan  was  tod  adroit  a  man  of  the  world 
and  too  crafty  a  representative  of  his  own  affairs  to 
allow  disagreeable  thoughts  to  again  spring  up  in  the 
king's  mind.  He  flatteringly  alluded  to  the  still 
youthful  feelings  of  the  monarch's  heart,  his  handsome 
person,  his  chivalry,  and  the  eagerness  with  which  all 
the  most  beautiful  and  noble  ladies  of  France  solicited 
his  favor.  The  last  hunting  party  had  shown  this 
again.  So  long  as  the  charming  horsewomen  thought 
the  king  was  at  the  head  of  his  train,  their  zeal  for 
slaying  the  game  had  no  end.  St.  Aignan  was  well 
aware  why  he  struck  this  note;  with  the  remembrance 
of  the  chase,  the  image  of  the  lovely  Mademoiselle  de 
Fontanges  was  recalled  to  his  royal  friend — and,  in 
fact,  Louis'  expression  was  transfigured,  and  a  strange 
happy  smile  rested  upon  his   face. 

At  this  moment,  Laporte,  the  first  valet  and  confi- 
dant of  the  king,  announced  His  Excellency,  Mon- 
sieur le  Tellier,  Marquis  de  Louvois,  and  His  Emi- 
nence, Prince  Franz  Egon  von  Fiirstenberg,  Bishop 
of  Strassburg. 

"Insufferable"— exclaimed  the  king  — "they  do  not 


'ifetiWlMirriiiriiiiMir^" 


140  A  ROYAL  ROfeBEft  '        .j 

! 

leave  us  a  single  moment  in  peace!"  But  uncori- 
vsciously  yielding  to  the  usual  influence  Louvois  ex- 
erted over  him,  he  ordered  the  gentlemen  to  be  ad- 
mitted. A  few  moments  later  the  minister  and  bishop 
entered  with  the  customary  three  profound  bows. 

Franz  Egon,  Prince  of  Furstenburg,  Bishop  Qf 
Strassburg,  was  a  handsome  man  in  the  very  prime  of* 
life.  His  tall,  slender  figure  displayed  to  the  best 
advantage  the  violet  clerical  dress,  gold  chain,  and 
cross  set  with  splendid  diamonds  which  he  wore. 
His  head  was  beautifully  formed,  and  showed  that  su- 
perficial dignity  which  so  easily  becomes  natural  to 
the  holders  of  ecclesiastical  offices,  but  which  never- 
theless  could  not  wholly  cover  an  expression  of  sensii- 
ality.  His  features  were  sharply  cut,  his  hands  small 
and  of  an  aristocratic  delicacy  and  whiteness.  There 
was  intellect  in  his  eyes,  but  also  an  expression 
of  deep  cunning.  The  bishop  remained  standing 
opposite  the  king — with  his  head  bent,  waiting  for 
the  monarch  to  accost  him.  '  j    / 

Louis  XIV,  indignant  at  the  resistance  of  Alsace 
and  Strassburg,  loaded  the  reverend  gentleman,  who 
as  we  know,  had  formerly  been  recommended  by 
Louvois  as  a  gilded  key  to  that  greatly  desired  portion 
of  Germany,  with  the  bitterest  reproaches. 

Waiting  in  his  humble  attitude,  holding  the  violet 
velvet  cap  in  his  folded  hands,  the  German  prince, 
this  distinguished  servant  of  the  church,  listened 
.patiently  with  an  air  of  the  deepest  submission  to  th^ 


ji-iiii^irii^^^'^^'^^^''^^'^^^^^ 


A    DISTINGUISHED   RASCAL 


141 


thunders  of  the  King  of  France.  And  a  thunder  clap 
it  was,  when  Louis  XIV  now  cried:  "We  certainly 
ought  to  have  considered  that,  though  the  Lord 
Bishop  of  Strassburg  is  connected  with  France  by 
many  of  his  offices,  he  is  still  a  German  prince 
and  as  such  remains  our  enemy!" 

'  The  king  was  silent;  but  the  reverend  gentleman, 
scarcely  daring,  in  his  humility  to  raise  his  head, 
said,  while  his  features  assumed  an  expression  of  the 
most  profound  submission.  "Your  Majesty  must 
graciously  pardon  me!  Louis  XIV,  the  noblest  of  liv 
ing  monarchs,  cannot  find  a  more  sincere  admirer  of 
his  greatness  and  power,  a  truer  and  more  loyal  ser- 
vant than  I." 

"Silence,  my  Lord  Bishop,"  cried  the  king  sternly. 
"You  might  fail  signally  if  you  sought  to  produce  the 
proofs."  "^  ' 

"Sire" — replied  Prince  Egon,  with  a  satisfaction 
which  would  have  incensed  to  the  uttermost  every 
German  heart.  "Sire,  I  believe  that  I  shall  not  have 
to  go  far  to  prove  to  your  Majesty,  in  the  most  strik- 
ing manner,  the  loyalty  and  the  true,  French  sympa- 
thies of  the  house  of  Furstenburg  although  it  is  cer- 
tainly a  German  house. " 

"We  are  curious!"  said  the  king  coldly. 

"Your  Majesty  will  perhaps  be  graciously  pleased 
to  recall  the  time" — continued  Furstenburg  with  a 
mild,  insinuating  voice — "in  which  Mars,  the  warrior 
god  of  our  age,  Louis  XIV,  at   the  peace  of  AiK  %^ 


142 


A  ROYAL  ROBBER 


Chapelle,    devised    the    plan    to   capture    Holland]'* 

"To  the  point!"  cried  the  king.  I 

"We  are  at  the  point,"  continued  the  bishop  with  a 
touch  of  pride:  "at  that  time  there  were  in  Gerrriany 
three  brothers  of  the  House  of  Fiirstenburg,  who 
proved  themselves  most  active  in  toiling  for  your 
Majesty  and  France.  One  of  them,  Wilhelm  Eon 
yon  Fiirstenburg — -the  right  hand  of  the  elector  Maxi- 
milian, Heinrich  of  Cologne,  persuaded  the  latter  to 
enter  into  an  offensive  and  defensive  alliance  with 
your  Majesty  against  Germany."  i 

"In  which  he  sold  his  country  to  France!"  thought 
the  Due  de  St.  Aignan,  who  stood  behind  the  king's 
chair,  and  cast  a  scornful  glance  at  the  German 
prince. 

"Such  is  the  case" — said  Louvois,  and  added  with 
an  expression  of  scorn — "Your  Majesty  surely  remem- 
bers the  sacred  clause." 

"Yes" — replied  the  king  haughtily.  "Besides  three 
public  articles,  the  document  of  the  treaty  contained 
one  other,  which  alone  was  valuable,  while  the  three 
were  onlj'  made  for  the  sake  of  appearances." 

"And  by  virtue  of  this  secret  article,"  added  Furst- 
enburg — "the  Elector  consinged  the  fortress  of  Nuys 
to  your  Majesty. " 

"In  other  words,"   thought  St.    Aignan— "he  deliv- 
ered his  country  and  subjects  up  to  the  enemy." 
^  "And  the  secret  clause,"  interposed  Louvois  mock- 
ingly— "was  by  no   means  bad,  .it  brought  his    High- 


0, 


^  .A  DISTINCmSHED   RA5CAI.  f43 

ness,  the  Prince  von  Furstenburg,  four  hundred   thou- 
sand livres." 

'Prince  Egon  looked  as  if  he  had  not  heard  the  last 
words.  Considering  the  treachery  of  his  family  to 
their  native  land  as  an  honor,  he  continued  in  a  fawn- 
ing tone,  still  maintaining  the  same   humble  attitude. 

"Your  Majesty  wi.ll  also  remember  a  similar  pro- 
ceeding on  the  part  of  Wilhelm's  two  brothers.  And 
is  not  the  fourth  a  colonel  in  your  Majesty's  service? 
Has  he  not,  although  a  German  Prin>ce,  renounced  the 
service  of  the  Emperor  for  the  honor  of  serving  under 
the  flag  of  Louis  XIV?  Did  he  not,  when  ambassador 
at  Cologne,  intrigue  against  his  own  country  in  order, 
'  if  possible,  to  prevent  the  declaration  of  war?" 

Here  Prince  von  Furstenburg  paused,  as  if  to  ob- 
serve the  impression  his  information  had  upon  the 
king.  A  disagreeable  smile,  the  expression  of  his 
servile  soul,  played  about  his  lips, 

"But   you,  my   Lord   Bishop" — exclaimed    the   king 
impatiently — "what  have  you    done?     Where    are    the 
.  fulfillments  of  the  promises  you  made  me  in  regard  to 
Alsace  and  Strassburg?" 

"Sire" — replied  the  bishop  quietl}^,  but  with  an 
humble,  crafty  manner — "my  weak  hands  have  sown  in 
the  name  of  the  Lord,  that  Louis,  XIV,  whom  the 
voice  of  the  people  so  beautifully  and  truly  calls  Dieu 
Donn^,  can  at  some  time  reap." 

"By  our  dear  Lady  of    Saint    Germain!"    cried    the 
king- — "the  seed  must  be  very  small,  at  least  our  eyes^ 
cannot  discover  it." 


i^^afcia,aa»iwja..f^ 


"You  rest  in  the  hearts  and  minds  of  thousands." 

"How  so?"  i 

"Your  Majesty  knows  that  since  the  accursed  time 
of  the  Reformation,  Alsace  has  been  almost  entirely  in 
the  hands  of  heretics.  Odious  Lutheranism,  like  a  poi- 
sonous weed,  has  taken  root  there,  and  even  the  proud 
and  holy  temple  of  the  Lord,  the  magnificent  cathe- 
dral of  Strassburg,  which  created  pious  enthusiasm  ior 
the  holy  mother  church,  is  in  the  hands  of  the  fallen 
ones. " 

"And  did  you  not  promise  us  to  lead  the  wandering 
sheep  back  to  the  fold?"  / 

"Yes,  Sire." 

"And—" 

"Upon  this  field,  with  the  blessing  of  the  Lord,  I 
have  industriously  labored.  To  be  sure,  my  work  was 
met  by  a  strong  opposition"....  J 

"What  is  opposition!"    exclaimed  the  king.       "The 
arrogant  seek  occupation,  and  the  people  oppose  them 
if  it  goes  too  far;    as   young    lambs    butt    each    other 
when  they  are  satisfied  with  their  mother's  milk.    But" 
a  good  shepherd  nevertheless  drives  them  in  pairs." 

"Pardon  me  your  Majesty" — answered  the  bishop, 
with  a  still  more  humble  bow — "nothing  can  be  done 
here  by  force,  here  we  must  use  the  mild  means  of 
persuasion,  deceit,  and  where  they  do  not  sufiSce, 
bribery."  •  .' 

"And  what  have  you  accomplished  by  these  mild 
means,  as  you  call  them,  ray  Lord  Bishop?" 


i^m^Migmi 


A   DISTINGUISHED    RASCAL 


145 


''Much,  Sire!  and  I  came   to   Versailles    to  lay   the 
report  at  your  Majesty's  feet." 

The  bishop  now  related  in  detail  how  <Jie  had  sent  a 
number    of    distinguished    priests    into    Alsace,    and 
through  them  had  secretly  worked   upon    the    people, 
partly  in  the  spirit  of  the  only,  blessed,  holy,  catholic 
church,  partly  in  the   interest   of   France.     His  emis- 
saries, disguised  as  traveling  merchants,  soldiers,  and 
wandering    handi-craftsmen,  were   especially   commis- 
sioned to  work  upon  women,  as    theit,  influence   upon 
the  obstinate  men  might  be   of    the  greatest    import- 
ance.    Louvois  had   assisted  him  not  a  little    in    the 
cities  and  provinces  which  had  already  been   incorpo- 
rated  into  France,  by  sending    to   some  a  number  of 
catholic  troops  and  ofiicers,  and  in  others. by   the  pas- 
sage of  new  laws  and  ordinances,  by  which  only  cath- 
olics were  permitted  to  fill    vacant    offices    and    posi- 
tions.   Moreover  Louvois  and  Fiirstenburg  now  labored 
together  so  well,  that  in  the  portion  of  Alsace  already 
incorporated  with  France,  no  one  could  obtain  prefer- 
rnent  unless    he    belonged    to    the    Catholic    Church. 
Only  in  Strassburg  itself    were    the    endeavors  of    the 
pious  bishop   still    unsuccessful;    although  his   plans 
were  naturally,  first  of  all  directed    to    this    city    and 
the  recovery  of  the  noble  cathedral.      But  here,  in  the 
free  German  city,  raised  by  commerce  and  manufact- 
ure,   dwelt  a  well  to  do      middle   class,  plain  and   of 
true  German  feeling.       Here,  where   since  the   Refor- 
mation Luth^ranism  ha4  found  a  eeaterj  where  a  Gut- 

/O    Robber 


14^ 


A  ROYAL  ROBBER 


teiiburg  and  many  other  brave  men  had  worked  and 
spread  education;  where  there  were  scarcely  a  hundred 
catholic  fam^iesi  here,  the  secret  intrigues  of  the 
bishop  had  as  yet  effected  but  little. 

With  single  families,  the  emissaries  of  the  bishop 
had  already  succeded  so  far  that  they  only  awaited 
the  proper  time  to  become  openly  catholic.  To  be 
sure^  they  were  still  few  in  numbers;  but  these  secret- 
ly treacherous  families  belonged  to  the  higher  and 
more  influential  class. 

The  bishop  explained  all  this  to  His  Majesty  fluent- 
ly and  in  detail.  Louis  himself  was  more  than  once 
astonished  at  the  expedients  and  treacheries  so  pious 
a  man  knew  how  to  employ  to  attain  his  end. 

Btjt  the  principal  point  was,  that  Prince  Egon  now 
proved  to  Louis  XIV,  that  he  could  probably  never 
win  and  incorporate  into  France  this  beautiful  piece 
of  German  earth, — Strassburg,  the  fortress  on  the 
road  to  Germany — the  key  to  the  German  empire,  un- 
less at  least  a  portion  of  the  population  was  drawn 
over  to  the  one  holy  church  by  his  endeavors.  He, 
Prince  von  Furstenburg,  glowed  with  an  ardent  desire 
to  take  Louis  XIV  into  Strassburg,-  as  its  Lord  and 
King,  and  have  its  cathedral  given  back  toffee  mother 
church! 

The  German  prince  urged  this — which  was  in  fact 
nothing  but  that  he  wished  to  become  a  trs^itor  to  his 
country — so  zealously  before  the  king,  that  the  latter 
sould  not  forbear  to  praise  him. 


b^ii 


^mstsi^rM't^--^  ■-^i.iaSai.it^^AdissM 


jn  msnsGviftum  i^ascal 


147 


Louvois,  too,  commended  the  bishop's  zeal  to  his 
master,  and  both  recognized  only  too  well  what  an 
excellent  instrument  for  their  plans  they  had  found  in 
this  man,  though,  in  the  depths  of  their  souls,  they 
despised  him  as  a  traitor  to  his  own  country. 

The  conversation  next  turned  upon  the  essential 
point  for  the  common  business;  that  of  the  money  to 
be  given  to  the  prince.  His  Majesty  at  this  audience 
promised  the  bishop  a  brevet,  according  to  which  he 
was  to  receive  60,000  livres  yearly;  while  the  bishop 
promised  on  the  other  hand,  not  only  to  continue  to 
proselyte  Alsace  and  Strassburg  to  the  utmost  of  his 
ability — but  also,  to  tear  away  Strassburg  from  the 
German  Empire  and  incorporate  it  into  France. 

After  the  conclusion  of  this  treaty,  Prince  Franz 
Egon,  with  a  radiant  face  and  the  dignity  of  a  holy 
man  of  the  church,  left  the  palace  accompanied  by 
Louvois. 


saa^^>.sks&iifc..^r:£.i^,6„.:,.:-.  .,x^»*s44^ai..^.^>^,.^^ 


-^  >; 


CHAPTER  XII. 

"the  catastrophe.' 


A  peculiar  atmosphere,  apainfully  depressing  sultri- 
ness reigned  in  those  days  at  the  court  of  Ver- 
sailles, and  especially  in  the  narrow  circle  which  sur- 
rounded the  king.  -  -  j 

Day  by  day,  Louis  XIV  became  more  inaccessible, 
gloomy,  and  morose,  and  yet  the  Due  de  St.  Aignan 
often,  surprised  him  in  an  almost  extraordinary  texcite- 
ment.  His  keen  eye  saw  plainly  the  true  state  of 
affairs;  the  king  loved  and  was  fortunate  in  his  love, 
and  who  other  than  the  charming  Mademoiselle  de 
Fontanges  could  be  the  object  of  his  passion,  although 
His  Majesty  had  not  as  yet  spoken  a  word  on  the 
subject.  '  I . 

But  did  this  clever 'courtier  require  a  confession  from 
the  monarch's  mouth?  He,  who  from  the  first 
arrival  of  little  Mademoiselle  de  Fontanges,  in  which 
he  bad  substantially  assisted,  had  approached  the 
simple  innocent  child  from  the  Limagne  as  a  friend, 
, and  surrounded  her  with  his  almost  irresistible  kind- 
ness—could easily  discover  in  the  young  heart,  so  little 
used  to  court  customs,  a  secret  which  was  hidden  even 

from  the  marquise.  .  i 

148 


.**THE   CAtASTROPHE** 


14$ 


The  Due  used  every  means  in  his  power  to  come 
upon  the  right  track,  to  rule  the  king  through  the 
new  mistress,  and  at  the  same  time  overthrow  and 
supplant  her,  who  till  now  had  possessed  the  king's 
heart  and  been  foolish  and  blind  enough  to  make  com- 
mon cause  with  St.  Aignan,  in  order  to  enchain  it  still 
longer. 

Courtiers  think  only  of  themselves  and  their  own  in- 
terests. Who  would  seek  among  their  ranks  for  friend- 
ship, confidence,  gratitude,  or  any  other  childish  off- 
spring of  a  sentimental  heart-  . 

St.  Aignan  now  courted — where  he  could  do  so  un- 
observed— the  favor  of  the  beautiful  Mademoiselle 
de  Fontanges,  as  he  would  have  done  that  of  a  queen. 
'  And  the  king?  Was  it  only  a  caprice,  ...  or 
from  the  dislike  of  causing  a  public  rupture  with 
Madame  de  Montespan?  .  .  .  that  he  still  restrained 
himself,  though  his  heart  beat  with  passionate  throbs 
for  this  new  object  of  his  affection. 

In  this  state  of  mind,  it  would  have  been  easier  for 
Louis  to  declare  war  against  half  of  Europe,  than  to 
take  a  decided  step.  A  hundred  times  he  had  deter- 
mined to  speak  his  will,  as  usual,  with  absolute 
decision,  and  require  the  most  implicit  obedience,  but 
again  a  hundred  times  a  vague  something  checked 
the  outburst  of  his  passion. 

It  was  a  little  remnant  of  honorable  feeling,  a  spark 
of  attachment  to  the  mother  of  his  six  children — 
which,  to  the  real  annoyance  of  the  king,  still  lingered 


150 


A    ROYAL    ROBBER 


in  his  breast.  His  Majesty  was  indignant  at  this 
childish  emotion,  which  was"  probably  all  very  well  for 
common  people,  but  surely  not  for  a  crowned  head. 
He  felt  injured  and  this  put  him  out  of  humor 
and  made  him  irresolute.  I 

But  the  bitterest  way  in  which  injuries  affect  us,  is 
by  obliging  us  to  hate.  Thus  Louis  began  to  hate  the 
one  whom  he  had  formerly  loved.  \    " 

And  Angelina  de  Fontanges?  '\ 

The  poor  child  did  not  comprehend  where  she  was! 

How  could  she  explain  the  king's  manner,  his 
reserve,  hi9»  silence  towards  her? — after. Jie  had  thrown 
himself  at  her  feet  in  that  happy  hour,  had  entreated 
her,  in  a  storm  of  the  wildest  passion,  for  her  love — 
which  Angeline  could  not  withhold  from  her  king,  the 
ideal  of  her  soul,  so  long  adored  in  dreams. 

And  now,  did  Louis  regret  what    he    had   confessed  , 
and  sworn  to  the  blushing,  delighted  child! 

The  king  at  her  feet — the  earth  had  no  longer  any 
value  for  her.  The  boldest  dreams  of  her  vain  little 
heart  were  surpassed— And  what  visions  for  the 
future?  If  the  king,  Louis  XIV,  bowed  into  the  dust 
before  her  beauty,  who  of  the  whole  world  remained 
that  must  not  follow  the  first  of  mortals? 

And  now?  Could  all  this  have  been  but  a  dream? 
Why  this  reserve?  To  be  sure,  now  and  then  a  glance 
from  the  king  threw  Heaven  and  Paradise  into  her  lap. 
Then  her  heart  would  cry  out;  "Yes,  yes,  he  loves 
me  stilL     Only  wait,  be  patient  till  it  is  possible  for 


"the  catastrophe**""  151 

him  to  raise  you  like  a  queen  before  the  whole  world. 
He  will  do  it,  and  then  everything  the  heart  can  desire 
or  strive  for  will  be  fulfilled." 

And  she  thought  of  the  cloud,  which  she  had  once 
seen  glistening  in  purple  and  gold  and  which  had 
enveloped  her  and  raised  her  to  a  height  of  bliss. 

The  position  of  Madame  de  Montespan  was  a  des- 
perate one.  The  usually  clever  woman,  who  knew 
Louis  so  thoroughly,  seemed  this  time  to  have  made 
a  mistake.  The  king  had  said,  "That  is  a  wolf  that 
will  not  eat  us,"  and  as  if  by  magic,  he,  who  was 
usually  fire  and  flame  at  the  sight  of  every  new  beauty, 
i;emained  perfectly  cold  and  indifferent  to  this  charm- 
ing girl. 

The  anger  of  the  marquise  knew  no  bounds.  What 
a  sacrifice  this  intrigue  had  cost  her  avarice,  what,  a 
sum  she  had  been  obliged  to  pay  St.  Aignan  alone, 
under  the  pretext  that  it  was  necessary  for  the  demands 
of  the  intrigue;  for  the  treasury  of  the  genial,  amiable 
spendthrift  was  bottomless,  and  nothing  had  come 
from  the  damnable  conjuration  of  the  devil. 

The  instrum.ent  was  good  for  nothing,  and  she 
was  determined  to  get  rid  of  it  at  the  first  opportunity. 
Mademoiselle  de  Fontahges  must  return  to  Limagne. 
The  friendliness  the  marquise  had  hitherto  displayed 
towards  Angeline,  turned  into  coldness  and  severity 
and  her  conduct  towards  the  poor  child  betrayed  ac- 
tual hatred  and  scorn. 

But  St.  Aignan  secretly  flattered  her  all    the   more. 


m^^^m^Se^ 


151  "a  royal  robber  .  . 

How  pleasantly  and  kindly  he  knew  how  to  give  her 
courage,  to  hint  obscurely  at  a  happy,  brilliant  future. 
Angeline  did  not  undrstand  him,  but  she  saw  that  he 
alone  still  sought  hey  favor,  and  this  flattered  her.  She 
felt  that  he  wished  her  well,  and  this  drew  her  towards 
him. 

The  Marquise  de  Montespan  knew  nothing  of  this. 
She  was  still  too  much  occupied  with  her  awn  posi- 
tion, which  was  so  perfectly  unbearable  that  only  a 
desperate  stroke  could  save  her. 

The  king  was  like  ice.  She  trembled  every  moment 
in  fear  of  the  outbreak  cf  his  displeasure.  Every 
anchor  had  lost  its  hold,  her  life  boat  was  staggering 
like  a  wreck  m  the  storm  of  the  royal  disfavor,  the 
fear  of  going  down  almost  broke  her  heart. 

It  was  horrible  to  retreat  from  her  position,  which 
was  more  important  than  that  of  the  queen.  The 
thought  of  no  longer  ruling  the  king, — and  through  him 
France — no  longer  being  sovereign  hsrse If,  was  un- 
bearable. ' 

But  the  ministers  Louvois  and  Colbert,  the  Due  de 
St.  Aignan,  Monseigneur,  and  the  king's  confessor 
recognized  that  the  moment  had  now  come  when  they 
must  gain  the  undivided  favors  of  Louis,  if  they  ever 
wished  to  rule  him.  '    ' 

Each  put  forth  all  his  strength  to  attain  this  end. 
Each  secretly  labored  at  his  well-laid  plan,  which 
aimed  at  the  overthrow  and  destruction  of  his  rival. 
And  yet  outwardly  there    were   only  smooth,  friendly 


iimnii  ffi  iito  'tn  f-iiBiimrmBaifi4 


TBEE  CATASTROPHE 


153 


faces,  they,  smiled   In   the  most  engaging  manner  and 
loaded  each  other  with  civilities. 

The  conflict  between  the  different  interest  and  pas- 
sions at  the  court  had  now  reached  its  highest  point.  Col- 
bert depended  upon  the  finances,  Monseigneur  sought 
to  make  the  influence  of  his  near  relationship  felt, 
Lpuvois  urged  war,  the  confessor  a  chiristian  life, 
Madame  de  Montespan  exhausted  herself  in  assurances 
of-  affection  all  for  one  object  and  the  keen  eyes 
of  Louis  XIV  read  them  all  with  the  exception 
of  St.  Aignan,  who  craftily  stood  behind  Ange- 
line. 

-A  little,  unimportant  occurrence  sprung  the  mine,  a 
grain  of  sand  was  the  cause  of  a  thundering,  destroying 
avalanche.  .  ,  . 

Louis  had  just  received  the  congratulations  of  his 
court  upon  a  victory  gained  by  his  troops  in  one  of 
the  colonies.  He  was  still  in  the  large,  golden  salon 
but  the  crowd  had  retired,  as  the  Marquise  de  Montes- 
pan apparently  wished  to  exchange  a  few  words  alone 
.with  His  Majesty. 

The  king,  gloomy  jis  ever,  took  his  seat  in  one  of 
the  gilded  arm-chairs,  of  which  there  were  only  two  in 
every  apartment,  in  case  both  their  majesties  wished 
_to  sit  down. 

When  the  king  sat  down — the  queen  with  her  suite 
fcad  retired  to  her  own  apartments — the  marquise 
stepped  confidently  forward.  With  almost  superhuman 
exertion^,    she  had   crushed   down   all    her   cares   and 


^R53b3 


as» 


t54 


A  ROYAL  ROBBER 


troubles,  and  given  herself  the  appearance  of  the  bright 
calmness,  which,  in  happier  times,  had  made  her  so 
dear  to  the  king.  I 

Louis  did  not  observe  it.  With  cold,  gloomy  polite- 
ness he  asked  what  she  wished.  1 

He  could  not  see  how  the  coldness  of  his  tone,  the 
ceremonious  politeness  of  his  words,  froze  the  blood  in 
her  veins.  Her  nerves,  which  were  before  excited  to 
the  uttermost,  quivered  almost  convulsively,  and  only 
the  strength  of  character  of  a  de  Montespan  would  have 
found  it  possible  In  such  a  position  to  repress  tears. 

But    she    would    and  she  was    mistress    of   herself. 
One  learns  at  court,  and  as  mistress  to  a  king,  to  con- . 
quer  oneself.  i 

With  a  loving  voice  she  personally  offered  her  con- 
gratulations; but  with  the  tact  of  a  woman  of  intellect, 
before  the  king  suspected  It,  she  knew  how  to  pass 
over  to  the  happiness  of  former  days. 

She  was  probably  once  more  reminded  of  the  perlsh- 
ableness  of  such  happiness,  for  Louis  had  never  before "^^ 
allowed  her  to  stand  at  his  side.  To-day  there  was  no 
sign  for  a  page  to  bring  a  stool.  But  this,  now  cus- 
tomary neglect,  which  In  the  presence  of  the  court 
must  have  been  doubly  painful  to  the  marquise,  she 
forbore  to  notice. 

"And  does  your  Majesty  no  longer  think  of  those 
bright  days  when  Frangolse  Athenais  was  so  happy  as 
to  drive  away  the  dark  clouds  from  the  brow  of  her 
adored  lord  and  king?"  she  said  sadly. 


■"^^rwrr 


"the  catastrophe"  155 


'      "It  was  somewhat  long  ago,"  said  the    king    dryly. 
"We  have  bcome  older  and  quieter,  madame. " 

The  marquise  bit  her  lip;  the  remark  was  malicious 
enough. 

"True,  earnest  love  never  grows  old,"  she  said — 
"How  happy  I  should  consider  myself,  if  I  might  share 
the  trouble  which  seems  lately  to  have  depressed  my 
noble  lord."  - 

"Affairs  of  state!"  said  the  king.  "We  prefer  to  keep 
them  to  ourselves —firstly,  because  we  wish  to  reign 
alone,  and  secondly,  because  thinking  of  such  things  is 
too  wearing  for  ladies,  and  thereby  makes  them'  old 
before  their  time." 

"Age  again!"  thought  the  marquise. 

"Pardon  me,  Sire!"  she  said  in  a  trembling  voice 
— "Louis  XIV,  the  great,  the  shining  star  of  his  cen- 
tury, needs  no  helping  hand  to  wield  the  scepter  of 
France  and  the  world; — so  far  my  thoughts  would 
never  ascend;  I  only  seek  to  cheer  the  heart  of  my 
king!  But  confess  it  yourself.  Sire,  matters  are  no 
longer  on  their  old  footing  between  us.  How  has* 
your  Athenais  deserved  this,  Louis?" 

"The  old,  unfounded  reproaches,"  he  answered 
angrily,  F 

"Unfounded?"  repeated  the  marquise.  "Could  you 
but  count.  Sire,  the  nights  I  have  spent  in  weeping." 

"You  are  nervous,  madame  1"  replied  the  king. 
"Call  in  a  physician  and"  strengthen  yourself  by  the 
fresh,  country  air." 


da^.a^s^-.^^^;,.^,.aaite^A!i^-^.^a:^-i-^^^  ..,  -"^-lijlrnl^ 


^^^1^^^ 


--j»r         ^^-^ 


^  / 


^5^ 


A  ROYAL   ROBBER 


Madame  de  Montespan  trembled!  It  had  gone  so  far 
already.  An  idea  of  banishment?  There  were  two 
great  tears  in  her  eyes.  She  intentionally  let  them  roll 
slowly  down,  so  that  the  king  must  perceive  them,  and 
then  said:  i         - 

"It  would  be  too  hard  for  me  to  part  from  the  children 
which  God  and  your  Majesty  have  given  me."        i 

But  here  Madame  de  Montespan  had  touched  a 
sensitive  spot.  Precisely  because  she  was  the  mother 
of  his  children — so  unjust  is  man  in  his  moods  and 
his  egotism — she  was  burdensome  to  the  king,  and  till 
now  she  had  restrained  him  from  dismissing  the 
burden.  i    : 

"I  think,  madame,"  replied  Louis,  even  more  indig- 
nant than  before  "the  Due  de  Maine  and  his  brothers 
and  sisters  are  legitimate  princes  and  princesses,  and 
provided  for  as  such.  You  need  take  no  farther 
trouble  about  their  fate  for  they  are  the  children 
of  France." 

But  what  mother  would  let  her  children  be  taken 
from  her  without  resistance?  A  feeling  of  bitter  in- 
dignation arose  in  the  soul  of  the  marquise. 

"Your  Majesty,  "she  said  sharply,  though  her  voice 
trembled,  "they  are  my  children  too." 

"Six,"  answered  the  king  courtly  and  sternly.  "We 
fear  that  they  have  shattered  your  nervous  system,  nay 
—almost — your  mind  I" 

"Your  Maje^sty,"  cried  the  marquise  turning  deadly 
pale. 


J&&m.^:  ^...^^..s^te^X^ 


.     "  **TH«   catastrophe'*  157 

"You  are  growing  tiresome  as  usual  lately  said  the 
king. 

But  now  the  long  repressed  anger  burst  the  fetters 
forged  by  despair. 

"What"!  she  exclaimed  in  a  smothered  voice,  while 
her  bosom  heaved  passionately,  "are  these  the  thanks 
with  which  Your  Majesty  repays  my  faithful  love,  my 
self-sacrificing  devotion?  Have  I  exposed  myself  to 
the  scorn  of  others  to  be  insulted  by  you  in  such  a 
manner?" 

The  king  laughed  aloud.  , 

"A  scene,"  he  said  mockingly.     "But,  madame,  you 
forget  that  fortunately  we  are  not  married    like   shop- . 
keepers." 

'Fortunately?"  repeated  the  marquise  slowly* 

"Remember  where  you  are!"  said  the  king  angrily, 
*'the  court  wait^  in  the  background." 

"And  think.  Sire,  that  not  only  the  court  is  present,* 
cried  the  marquise  violently,  "but  God,,  whose  justice 
I  invoke."        - 

The  king  had  heard  enough.  He  made  a  movement 
to  rise,  saying: 

—  "Yoa  are  making  yourself  ridiculous,  madame. 
Gease  this  farce.  And  if  you  wish  for  our  well  meant 
counsel,  it  is  this:  if  you  do  not  prefer  the  quiet  of  a 
country  life,  we  would,  if  in  your  place,  look  about 
for  a  cloister.  Court  life  is  becoming  too  burdensome 
for  one  of  your  age^"  • 

The  marquise  wished  to  answer,  but  her  voice  failed. 


'-5r"V  -'^-W^f^! 


'^^^fS^Wf^^s?^^^^^^ 


158 


A  ROYAL  ROBBER 


The  whole  fury  of  her  passion  threatened  to  break 
forth— 'but  recollecting  herself,  she  pressed  her  fingers 
tightly  together,  stamping  her  left  foot,  as  was  her 
custom  when  angered.  ! 

A  diamond  buckle  became  loosened    from    the    satin 

i 
shoe.  I 

Heaven  be  praised !  there  was  now  an  escape  for 
her  anger.  ' 

With  flaming  eyes  she  gazed  round  the  circle  and 
her  glance  fell  upon  Mademoiselle  de  Fontanges,  who 
was  standing  among  the  rest  of  her  ladies. 

"Mademoiselle  de  Fontanges!"  she  exclaimed. 

The  king  flushed  crimson,  and  then  turned  pale. 

Angellne  modestly  approached  although  her  heart 
almost  refused  service  in  the  near  presence  of  the 
king.  I 

She  now  stood  beside  the  marquise.  I 

"What  can  I  do  for  you,  madame?"  she  asked  in  a 
whisper.  •  ^  ,  j 

"Fasten  the  buckle  of  my  shoe!"  replied  the  Mar- 
quise de  Montespan.  j 

Angeline  turned  pale.  Her  pride  rose  against  this 
unprecedented  insolence  especially  in  the  presence 
of  the  king  and  court.  She,^  a  daughter  of  one  of  the 
the  oldest  families  in  Limagne;  she,  the  most  beauti- 
ful of  all  these  ladies;  she,  to  whom  the  king  had 
declared  his  love — was  she  to  serve  the  marquise  like 
a  common  waiting^maid  in  the  presence  of  this  very 
king  and  bis  court? 


^ 


**THE    CATASa'ROPHE** 


159 


Never.  '' 

"Be  quick'"  cried  Madame  de  Montespan  with 
another  stamp  of  her  foot. 

"I  will  call  your  waiting-maid,"  answered  Angeline, 
trembling  in  every  limb. 

But  the  anger  of  the  marquise  had  overpowered  ■  her 
to  such  a  degree  that  she  forgot  everything  abtfut  her. 
No  longer  mistress  of  herself,  she  raised  her  hand  and 
the  next  moment  a  slap  resounded  through  the  hall. 

A-  long  mark  burned  on  Angeline's  cheek.  She 
staggered  back  with  a  loud  cry.  Two  other  ladies 
belonging  to  the  suite  of  the  marquise,  hastened  for- 
word  and  supported  her. 

But  the  king  had  also  started  up  with  a  thundering- 
"hold!"  '    . 

The  whole  court  was  agitated.  A  death-like  stillness 
followed  the  first  stormy  outbreak  of  passion. 

"Madame! "  said  Louis  XIV,  now  standing  erect, 
and  in  fact  at  this  moment  he  resembled  an  angry 
god,  "madame,  you  are  ill  ,  .  .  we  have  already  said 
so,  your  nervous  system  is  shattered  and  requires  rest. 
Within  twenty-four  hours  you  will  k.ave  Versailles  and 
repair  to  your  country  seat  of  Tonnay-Charante,  where 
you  will  remain  till  it  pleases  us  to  issue  other  com- 
mands!" 

"LouisI"  faltered  the  marquise,  and  sank  fainting 
upon  the  ground. 

The  king  did  not  see  her.  Turning  to  Angeline  he 
said  so  loud  that  the  whole  court  might  hear: 


^-w^^mww^' 


l$0,  A   tL4yVAh  tlOBBER 

*'Madame  la  Duchesse  de  Fontanges!  From  this 
day  you  will  fill  the  position  of  first  lady  of  honor  to 
her  majesty,  the  Queen!"  j  _  -  -l; 

"Sire!"  cried  Angeline,  confused    and    embarrassed. 

But  Louis  XIV  bent  gently  towards  her,  and 
whispered:  *"  j 

"Do  you  remember  the  hour  In  the  woods  of  ^arly? 
Will. you  reject  the   ardent  love  of  your  king?"  j 

"No,  no,"  whispered  Angeline.  { 

"Then  give  me  your  hand,  Madame  la  DtichesseV* 
said  the  king,  once  more  aloud,  as  he  gallantly  ex- 
tended his  right  hand  to  Angeline,  who  laid  hers  softly 
on  the  tips  of  his  fingers.  j     . 

"We  will  present  you  to  Her  Majesty,  and  install 
you  in  your  office.  After  to-morrow,  you  will  occupy 
the  apartments  in  the  palace,  which  till  now,  have 
belonged  to  the  Marquise  de  Montespan."  j  ___ 

And  with  these  words  His  Majesty,  by  the  side  of 
the  beautiful  Angeline,  followed  by  the  whole  court, 
which  had  scarcely  recovered  from  its  astonishment, 
went  towards  the  queen's  apartments.  j         ~ 

One  person  alone  remained  behind  in  the  great  hall. 

He  was  a  young  man,  who  stood  pale,  rigid,  and 
motionless,  like  a  marble  statue.  l 

The  uniform  he  wore  was  in  disorder  and  cdvered 
with  dust,  for  he  had  just  arrived  as  courier  from 
Arras,  with  important  dispatches  for  the  Minister  of 
War.  I 

"Monsieur  le  Due,  what  in  the  name  of  all  the  saints 

;;■<•:::;       '..    .. "        .       ■        ■"     ;_^         _  ^  --.J   • 


"the  catastrophe"  l6l 

does  what  I  have  just  seen,  mean?  **  he  asked  of  St. 
Aignan. 

"How  does  my  cousin,  Angeline  de  Fontanges  chance 
to  be  here?    What  is  there  between  her  and  the  king?" 

"What  Is  It?"  replied  the  courtier  in  a  sorrowful 
tone,  quickly  recovering  himself,  "it  means  that  Made- 
.moiselle  de  Fontanges  Is  now  Madame  la  Duchesse 
de  Fontanges,  and  theklng'snew  mistress!" 

"Monsieur  le  Due!"  cried  Gauthler,  laying  his  hand 
upen  his  sword,  but  the  procession  had  passed. 
Gauthler  stood    as    If    benumbed.  i 

In  the  evening,  the  rooms  which  the  new  Duchesse 
occupied  In  the  palace  of  Versailles  till  the  departure 
of  the  Marquise  de  Montespan,  were  brilliantly 
lighted,  Louis  XIV  honored  the  charming  Angeline  de 
Fontanges  with  his  presence. 

Once  only  they  were  disturbed  in  their  happiness 
by  a  shot.  But  it  was  only  a  momentary  interruption. 
Nothing  more  was  thought  of  the  matter.  It  was  only 
a  young  officer,  who  had  shot  himself  under  the 
window. 

He  threw  away  hope,  like  a  cripple  who  Is  disgusted 
with  his  crutch.  He  was  ashamed  to  weep,  but  also 
to  live. 


H 


PART  11. 

A  GERMAN  CITY. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


STRASSBURG. 

Who  does  not  know,  who  does  not  love  the  beauti- 
ful, glorious  Rhine  whose  naime,  as  Schenkendorf 
happily  says,  rhymes  so  well  with — wine?         .   ; 

The  world  debates  as  to  whether  the  Rhine  is,  or  is 
not  a  German  river.  The  Rhine  is  a  picture  of  the 
German  as  he  is,  his  very  self — a  hapless  Faiist. 

And  Strassburg — If,  as  a  poet  has  described  it^ 
Alsace  is  "the  heart  of  Germany  torn  out,"  then  the 
city  of  Strassburg,  which  lies  upon  the  left  side  of 
the  breast  of  the  child,  is  the  "heart  of  Alsace."  As 
all  the  arteries  in  man  radiate  from  the  heart  and  all 
the  veins  return  to  it,  so  that  it  promotes  and  regu- 
lates the  whole  circulation,  so  do  the  highways  lead- 
ing to  all  parts  of  Alsace  radiate  outwards  from  Strass- . 
burg. 

The  principal  rivers,    Rhine,  111,  and  Breusch,  flow 
^together   here.     This  city  forms  the  central    point   of 

Western  Europe. 

168 


ieSt^^mS^am 


"  STRASSBURG  163 

In  those  days  Strassburg  was  a  proud  and  beautiful 
city — a  true  pearl  among  the  towns  of  the  German 
empire  and  its  banner  ever  floated  in  the  van  of  the 
free  cities,  directly  behind  the  Imperial  eagle. 

Even  under  the  rule  of  the  Romans,  Strassburg  was 
a  municipal    town,  and  as   such,  had    the  privilege   of 
choosing  its  own  magistrates  and    in  a  certain  degree* 
governing    itself,  which    high    and  important    right  it 
retained  under  the    dominion  of  the  Franks,  and  also 
that  of  the  German  empire,  for' Strassburg  and  Alsace 
were  and  are  of  true  German  origin,  as  is    proved  by 
.their  very    names:     Strassburg — the   "citadel    of    the 
roads" — and  Elsass,  the  "seat  of  the  Alemanni." 
.  The  city  made  its  own  laws,  coined  its  own  money, 
,  maintained  its  own    troops,  and    held    the    first  place 
among  the  free  cities  in  thie  empire. 

Kings,  princes  and  republics  solicited  its  friendship 
and  concluded  treaties  with  it;  even  the  most  power- 
ful nobles  in  the  vicinity  considered  it  an  honor  to  be 
enrolled  among  the  citizens  of  Strassburg. 

But,  like  everything  else  in  the  world,  these  flattering 
advances  from  the  nobility  had  two  sides.  Towards 
the  commencement  of  the  twelfth  century  so  many 
aristocratic  families  had  become  citizens  of  Strass- 
l)urg,  that  their  influence  began  to  be  paramount,  and 
thus  by  degrees  they  obtained  possession  of  all  the 
higher  city  offices  and  in  the  course  of  time  monopo- 
lized them  so  completely  that  they  almost  became 
hereditary. 


^ 


^^^^^^■^-^^^ 


!fi^i*-"^K: 


^  ^5?w«5WFf»we^j«»^53 


!«♦ 


ROYAL  KOBBSR 


The  municipal  goverment  of  the  ancient,  free  city 
of  Strassburg,  rested  upon  the  various  guilds;  its 
laws  grew  from  this  firm  foundation,  and  only  when 
the  universal  storm  of  the  revolution  of  1789  destroyed 
the  government  of  Strassburg,  did  the  powerful  blows 
of  the  new  spirit   of  freedom  uproot  the  guilds. 


hm-fiiii  -  riifflitiiiilfifr  rrl  v-.>--.^...^v>---..^.^-^:^*^^.^":  .^^•:^->-;^-^^..i:fe#i'-iif  ftgiiy l^^ 


■  ~-  •■/: 


CHAPTER  XIV: 


THE  TAILOR. 


One  of  the  most  important  days  m  the  city  life  of 
Strassburg  had  returned  with  the  close  of  the  year. 
It  was  called  the  Schwortag,  the  time  when  the  cit- 
izens of  the  old  Argentorum— the  ancient  free  city — 
felt  the  full  glory  if  their  republican  dignity.  The 
citizens  of  Strassburg  had  sworn  allegiance  to  the 
newly-elected  Ammeister  Rathsherren  and  the  old 
"Schworbrief"  of  1482. 

The  same  scene,  that  had  been  witnessed  each  year 
for  centuries,  had  taken  place  that  day,  but  on  this 
day  the  glasses  clinked  with  a  doubly  joyous  ring  to 
the  welfare  and  prosperitj^  of  the  sacred  German  Em- 
pire, the  beautiful,  t)eloved,  native  land  and  Mis 
Majesty,  the  Emperor  Leopold  I. 

But  the  wildest  mirth  of  all  was  undoubtedly  in 
the  drinking-room  of  the  Schneider-zunft.*  It  was  a 
large  apartment  for  the  Strassburg  Schneider  zunft  in 
those  days  numbered  more  than  four  hundred  mem- 
bers. The  room  was  therefore  necessaril3^  a  large  one, 
although  only  intended  to  accommodate  the  masculine 
members  of  the  guild;    and  it  was  not    only  large  and 

165 

•  TMlers  guild,  kail. 


^&£iai^e^^M£^c . 


l66  A  ROYAL ^R^ 

lofty,  but  according  to  the  ideas  of  the  times,  hand- 
somely furnished.  ^  ' 

But  the  whole  room — now  that  the  visit  of  the  new 
Ammeister  had  been  received — was  filled  with  tables 
and  benches,  around  and  on  which  sat  worthy  com- 
rades drinking  and  talking  gayly  to  each  othen  At 
one  table  alone,  close  under  the  banner— sat  four 
magistrates,  distinguished  by  their  black  robes,  whose 
cut  recalled  the  Spanish  costume:  the  Rathsherr 
Stosser,  Dr.  Obrecht,  Dr.  Ecker  and  the  council  and 
city  clerk,  Giinzer.  j 

These  distinguished  gentlemen  drank  their  wine  to- 
gether, and  their  whole  manner  displayed  a  certain 
shade  of  anxiety,  though  they  raised  and  touched 
their  glasses  with  remarkable  cordiality  whenever  any 
of  the  worthy  tradesmen  present  drank  their  healths. 
Their  conversation  was  principally  conducted  in  whis- 
pers, while  Gunzer's  sharp  eyes  kept  a  cautious  watch 
that  no  one  listened  or  approached  them.  If  either  of 
these  things  happened,  he  set  down  his  glass  in  the 
middle  of  the  table  with  a  certain  air  of  carelessness, 
and  they  relapsed  into  silence.  .  - 

This  now  occurred,    and  the  gentlemen   exchanged 

glances,  as  a  singular,  almost  comical  figure  appeared 

before  them,  glass  in  hand.  >  ^ 

'  '  '    /■  ~     ■'■.,..■■.■..■'■ 
"The    French-hater,"     Gunzer     hastily    whispered, 

"we  must  be  cautious." 

."The  old  fool!"- muttered  Stosser.  i 

'The  scoundrel!"  added  Dr.  Obrecht. 


iteiSMtiMitiiMir-"ii^ 


..  the;  TA«,0R  '  167 

At  this  moment,  the  man  of  whom  the  gentlemen 
had  made  such  kindly  mention  came  up  to  them. 

It  was  the  tailor  Franz  BlasiusWenck— assuredly  a 
peculiar  personage.  The  man  was  about  sixty  years 
old.  His  figure  was  small  and  bent,  and  as  his  head 
was  sornewhat  sunk  between  his  shoulders,  and  his 
whole  body  turned  at  every  movement  as  if  it  were 
a  part  of  the  head;  the  strange  being  had  a  comical 
appearance,  and  there  was  something  in  the  features, 
though  it  was  difficult  to  define,  which  increased  the 
impression.  -  ^ 

Meister  Wenck  was  really  both .  kind  and  char- 
itable,' nay,  one  could  conscientiously  praise  his  strict 
'Observance  of  the  Lutheran  religion,  while  he  ex- 
pressed his  unshaken  trust  In  God  in  the  saying: 
"Who  knows  what  good  it  may  do!"  almost  more  than 
was  needful. 

Meister  Wenck  approached  the  four  gentlemen  who 
were  seated  around  one  of  the  best  tables  in  the  drink-, 
ing  hall  of  the  tailor's  guild,  bowed,  and  said,  holding 
out  his  glass: 

"I  greet  the  illustrious  members  of  the  council  who 
honor  the  worthy  Schneider- zunft  with  a  visit  on  this 
great  day;  for  the  day  is  a  great  and  important  one 
to  our  good  city  of  Strassburg,  when  the  magistrates 
and  citizens  swear  mutual  fealty— on  pain  of  banish- 
ment — and  take  a  solemn  oath  never  to  enter  into  any 
alliance  which  might  cause  the  ruin  of  the  community 
and  the  free  city  itself." 


■'  '»!W(pp>ai§^pj^^ji^jijip|i|,^ 


t68        "^  A   ROYAL   ROBBER 

As  he  uttered  these  words,  the  little  tailor's  bold, 
twinkling  eyes  cast  a  strange,  questioning  glance  at 
the  group  of  black-robed  gentlemen.  There  was  some- 
thing almost  inquisitorial  in  the  expression  of  the 
odd  little  man.  Strange!  The  noble  members  of  the 
council  must  have  noticed  it  also,  for  it  almost  seemed 
sad  if  a  momentary  change  of  color  was  the  conse- 
quence. 

No  one  noticed  this,  it  was  true,  except  perhaps 
Meister  Wenck,  who  raising  his  glass,  exclaimed  in 
a  loud,  distinct  tone: 

"I  hereby  pledge  the  most  noble  and  learned  magis- 
trates of  our  city  itself,  and  especially,  our  most  gra- 
cious master  and  emperor,  Leopold,  the  guardian  and 
defender  of  the  sacred  German  Empire." 

As  he  uttered  the  words,  Wenck  held  out  his- brim- 
ming glass  to  the  members  of  the  council  and  enthu- 
siastically shouted,  'Hurrah!"  and  "Hurrah,  hurrah!," 
echoed  in  thundering  cheers  through  the  spacious 
drinking  hall. 

The  magistrates  had  also  drunk  the  toast,  though 
with  some  little  constraint,  but  they  quickly  resumed 
their  seats  while  the  city  clerk,  Syndicus  Giinzer, 
turned  to  the  tailor,  saying: 

"You  are  an  honest  man,  Meister  Wenck,  whose 
heart  and  tongue  are  in  the  right  place,  and — and  a 
patriot  to  boot,  even  your  enemies  must  admit  that. 
Your  toast  certainly  had  the  right  ripg.  But,"  and 
here  the  city  clerk's  long,  slender  figure  bent  almost 


..  ■s-^-,rr'ff^.lrtitf^1-ti--mtiri1lih<1tSiMili 


THE   TAILOR  169 

familiarly  towards  the  tailor,  "but!  you  lack  one  thing, 
my  worthy  man,  and  that  is — caution!" 

"Caution?"  repeated  Wenck  in  astonishment,  raising 
his  bush}^  eye-brows  inquiringly,  while  a  faint  smile 
flitted  over  the  faces  of  the  bystanders.  "I  don't  un- 
derstand how  there  can  be  any  question  of  caution 
when  we  salute  our  learned  magistrates,  our  good  city, 
and  our  most  gracious  master,  the  German  emperor, 
with  a  hearty  cheer." 

"You  don't  understand,  my  worthy  fellow,"  Gxinzer 
continued  with  forced  cordiality  and  great  condescen- 
sion, "because,  being  only  a  simple  citizen,  you  know 
nothing  about  what  is   called    policy  and    diplomacy," 

"No,"  replied  the  tailor,  shaking  his  head  with  a 
comical  grimace,  "I  don't  know  anything  about  that, 
to  be  sure,  but — who  knows  what  good  it  may  do!" 

"A  little  policy,  diplomacy  and  caution  are  useful  in 
everything,"  continued  the  city  clerk,  almost  reprov- 
ingly,, "but  caution  is  doubly  required  of  the  citizens 
of  Strassburg,  since  our  little  free  state  lies  between 
the  two  powerful  kingdoms  of  France  and  Germany." 

"But  we  belong  to  the  kingdom  of  Germany,"  ob- 
served Wenck. 

Gxinzer  made  no  definite  reply  to  this;  but  bent  his 
head,  as  if  in  assent  and  then  said: 

"But  walls  have  ears!  And  surely  His  August 
Majest}',  Louis  XIV,  the  illustrious  king  of  France, 
will  not  be  very  much  edified  if  he  learns  that  the  peo- 
I^le  of  Strassburg  raise  such  thundering  cheers, for  the 
Emperor  Leopold,  his  enemy." 


'^''''''•'^'^'^"'-■^''''^^^^^^^ 


--^^i^^!;j*-5^^g|55?5o^^8^^^ 


170  A    ROYAL   ROBBER 

"O — ho!"  cried  the  little  tailor,  advancing  a  little 
nearer  to  the  city  clerk.  "Haven't  we  Germans  a 
right  to  cheer  for  our  emperor?  What  do  we  people 
of  Strassburg  care  for  the  king  of  France?  Let  him 
hear  that  we  nave  true  German  hearts;  — let  him  hear 
it,  in  spite  of  his  Chambers  de  Reunio}is  by  which 
he  got  possession  of  Alsace  and  swallowed  other  peo- 
ples property  under  the  pretense  of  a  just  claim; — let 
the  king  of  France  and  his  ministers  hear  that  we  are 
loyal  Germans  1     Who  knoAvs  what  good  it    may  do!" 

The  gentlemen  of  the  council  were  actually  embar- 
rassed;  the  city  clerk  alone  retained  his  calm  bearing. 
Accustomed  in  every  situation  of  life  to  control  him- 
self, feign,  and  dissemble,  he  smiled  at  the  comic  zeal 
of  Meister  Blasius.  ' 

"My  dear  friend,"  said  he,  "you  are  perfectly 
right — only  you  seem  to  have  misunderstood  me. 
All  honor  to  the  German  emperor  and  kingdom — but 
we  men  of  Strassburg  must  be  cautious  and  prudent. 
Vienna  and  Ratisbon  are  a  long  distance  from  here, 
and — what  can  the  emperor  and  kingdom  do  for  us? 
France,  on  the  contrary,  adjoins  our  little  free  state; 
its  interests  are  ours — the  armies  of  France  can  over- 
run us  at  any  moment. "  I 

"Only  when  the  barriers  of  justice  are  broken  down 
and  we  show  ourselves  cowards  and  poltroons!"  ex- 
claimed Meister  Wenck,  almost  angrily.  ..    i 

"I  only  said:  can!"  continued  the  city  clerk  quietly 
with  a  most  magisterial    mien,  "and    I  think   it  would 


'4. 


..  Z  i.^._      .  ,  iiD,^!!S^j^'d^^il^S&^ 


^^^l^Q^^^mf^^^^Ws^^r^iS^-i^^;'''^''^^^ 


THE  TAILOR     .  I7I 

be  both  wise  and  diplomatic  not  to  irritate  her.   Louis 
XIV  is  also  our  protector  and  friend." 

"Oh!  indeed,"  said  Meister  Blasius,  whose  eyebrows 
seemed  to  be  trying  to  meet  over  his  nose.  "Then  I 
will  pray  every  morning  and  evening:  'Lord,  deliver 
us  from  our  friends,  and  we  will  take  care  of  our  en- 
emies.'"   ■  --"-"■'■:-:.]:'■■':' 

A  shout  of  laughter  echoed  through  the  room. 

"Yes,"  continued  Meister  Wenck,  "who  knows  what 
good  it  may  do!"  'v  • 

"You  have  an  evil  tongue!  "  said  Dr.  Obrecht  angrily. 
"King  Louis  means  well  by  the  people  of  Strassburg. " 

"What   is    the    learned    Herr    Doctor    saying!"    ex- 
claimed Meister  Blasius  jeeringly.    "Perhaps  he  means 
,as  well  by  us  as  he  did  by  Hagenau,  Homburg,  Weiss- 
enburg  and  the  ten  free  cities  of  Alsace,     which    have 
been  incorporated  into  the  dominions  of  France." 

"Meister  Wenck  is  right!"  cried  man}'  voices. 

"Yes,  he  is  right.  We  will  remain  free  Germans. 
We  men  of  Strassburg  are  proud  of  our  German  origin 
and  independence. "  ;        ;•  .  -  ; 

"We  have  alwa3^s  been  free  Germans  and  will  so 
remain."    -  ,.  %  •:^■■•^ 

"Hurrah  for  Germany!"  , 

Hurrah  for  the  House  of  Austria!" 

"Hurrah  for    the  free    German  city    o!  Strassburg!" 

Such  were  the  cries  that  resounded  through  the  room, . 
while  glasses  clinked  and  the  joyous,  enthusiastic 
cheers  seemed  as  if  they  would  never  end. 


^7   ^  "' 


!^s!^?^^^'^^^^r^?^^^^m^iB!^i'w^fi'?i^m'f!!^f^w^^»!^^^s^y?^m^^'f!^i^s^!^:^^' 


172  A    ROYAL   ROBBER 

When  the  noise  at  last  subsided  the  city  clerk  also 
raised  his  glass,  and  casting  a  glance  at  his  compan- 
'  ions  the  whole  party  rose. 

"Worthy  Meisters  of  the  honorable  guild  of  tai- 
ors!"  he  said  aloud,  forcing  his  voice  to  assume  the 
necessary  tone  of  firmness  and  gentleness,  and  giving 
his  keen  eyes  as  kindly  an  expression  as  they  could 
assume.,  "we,  too,  members  of  the  council,  will  now 
propose  a  toast-  long  live  the  honest  burghers  of  our 
dear,  native  city!  May  God  protect  and  enlighten 
them,  that  in  these  difficult  times  they  may  find  and 
walk  in  the  right  path  to  prosperity  and  happiness. 
In  the  critical  state  of  affairs  at.  the  present  day,  the 
only  means  of  safety  is  to  once  more  assert  the  neu- 
trality of  Strassburg,  and  the  city  magistrates  eagerly 
seized  upon  the  well-meant  proposal  of  the  French 
government  to  again  proclaim  it.  Thus  the  freedom 
and  independence  of  our  dear,  native  city  is  preserved, 
and  as  Louis  XIV,  the  great  king  of  France — the 
father  of  his  people — lavishes  his  kindness  also  upon 
us,  na}^,  has  even  promised  peace  and  protection — " 

"Cat's  friendship,"   muttered  Wenck. 

"We  will,  in  addition  to  the  healtli  of  the  burghers 
of  Strassburg— drink  his  also." 

At  that  moment,  as  if  by  accident,  the  little  tailor 
let  his  tin  goblet  fall  from  his  hand.  It  struck  heavily 
on  the  floor,  and  as  the  wine  bespattered  the  by- 
standers, there  was  a  sudden  crowding  backward  amid 
loud  exclamations. 


'd^S^kiiHitL^iL^.lii.'^ia^'iii:-..^  -■■--..■  ■V.--iY.:-?-.r.f"-iia-i!>'M.-'g;^';«ni7"^^ 


^|^P^J^Egj^gp^P^;^^^'^^J'?g^??i^!^^ss^^ 


g'^5?7???S>^ 


THE    TAILOR  '73 

"What  a  sliame!"  said  the  little  tailor,  with  well- 
feigned  vexation,  "but — who  knows  what  good  it  may 
do!" 

'*  The  city  clerk's  toast  was  forgotten.     Not  a  single 
cheer  had  been  uttered. 

A  death-like  pallor  covered  the  faces  of  the  four 
members  of  the  council,  and  they  silentl}' resumed  their 
seats,  while  Gi'mzer  whispered: 

"For  God's  sake  be  cautious,  gentlemen!  So  surely 
as  there  is  a  heaven  above  us,  that  damned  tailor  has 
caught  a  glimpse  of  our  cards." 

"The  scoundrel!"   growled  Dr.  Obrecht. 

"The  fool!"  muttered  Strosser. 

"I'll  manage  to  stop  his  tongue,"  said  Herr  Ecker. 

The  conversation  now  became  general  and  the  com- 
pany eagerly  discussed  the  political  situation  of  the 
times  and  especially  that  of  the  city  to  which  they 
belonged.  The  minds  of  all  were  still  inflamed  by 
the  public  display  they  had  witnessed  that  very  day — 
their  self-importance  was  increased  by  the  magnificent 
ceremony,  by  the  pomp  and  splendor  of  the  power  of 
the  Middle  Ages,  of  which,  however,  only  the  appear- 
ance remained. 


V 

V 


« 


i«*iiSt^ii'-"-'!  ^^  .'i'-^'j.  '■''■. 


w7  ^^PPS^P^^^'l^i^w?^ 


CHAPTER  XV. 

"family  joys." 

On  the  same  evening  upon  which  Meister  Wenck 
had  the  little  skirmish  with  the  city  clerk  Giinzer  at 
the  guild  hall,  Syndicus  Frantz  accompanied  the  newly 
chosen  and  ruling  Ammeister  upon  his  round  among 
the  twenty  guilds. 

It  was  truly  a  hard  task,  after  the  many  solemnities 
of  the  day;  and  the  worthy  gentlemen  had  already 
been  obliged  to  suffer  much  from  the  cold  in  their  fine 
official  costume,  but  now  thev  shivered  still  more  in 
the  large,  room}'  councilor's  coach. 

None  in  the  whole  kindgom  clung  with  greater  ob- 
stinacy and  stubbornness  to  such  old  traditions  than 
the  free  cities. 

Syndicus  Frantz,  a  sensible  man,  cared  very  little 
for  such  things;  but  he  alone  could  not  change  the 
custom,  and  on  the  other  hand  he  knew  that  one  could 
not  take  a  single  stone  from  an  old  and  crumbling 
building  without  risking  the  destruction  of  the  whole. 

Moreover,  the  stormy  days  of  the  reign  of  Louis  XIV 
were  surely  not  fitted  for  a  perfect  transformation  suita- 
ble to  the  times. 

So  the  Syndicus  patiently   made  the  rounds    by  the 

174 


-ma-aisafe.jj|jagyg.>^^fea^^ 


'  "family  joys**  175 

side  of  the  new  Ammeister;  but  congratulated  himself 
when  the  affair  was  over  and  the  great  coach  set  him 
down  at  his  own  house. 

Syndicus  Franz  hastily  descended  from  the  coach, 
whose  door  the  servant  respectfully  opened.  He 
slipped  in  with  a  friendly  nod,  and  was  received  on 
the  stairs  with  warm  and  affectionate  greetings  from 
his  wife  and  daughter.  Both  embraced  and  led  him 
into  the  room. 

Alma,  the  Syndicus'  charming  daughter  and  only 
child,  ran  for  her  father's  dressing-gown,  while  her 
mother  took  off  the  black,  helmet-like  velvet  cap,  and 
assisted  him  to  remove  his    state  robe. 

Syndicus  Frantz,  notwithstanding  liis  sixtj^-five 
years,  was  a  fine  looking  man,  both  in  his  home  dress 
and  state  costume.  Noble,  open  features  revealed  a 
similar  character.  The  smoothly  combed  brown  hair, 
^  now  mixed  with  gray,  betrayed  an  equally  smooth  dis- 
position; the  glance  of  the  still  beautiful  eyes  spark- 
ling with  intellect  and  thought,  expressed  kindliness 
and  honor;  while  the  firral}'  closed  mouth  showed  . 
firmness  of  character  and  energy  of  soul. 

The  wife  and  daughter  had  much  to  tell  about  what 
the}'',  in  company  with  the  young  and  lovely  Frau  von 
Bernhold,  an  intimate  friend  of  Alma,  had  seen  on 
the  cathedral  square  from  the  windows  of  the  ancient 
nunnery;  much  to  ask,  and  man}'  things  for  the  Syn- 
dicus, who  had  stood  close  beside  the  chief  magis- 
trate, to  answer. 


iHfiiliiA-'gfli^Si11ii^'^iiiv'«i''%'T'--^'^^^^  ...Jsi^m^i^ 


~:/  -  .'    "         '  ■       '■  -'    \.   .  ■'■'  -!■■      ; 

/  \   ~      '  .   ■  i       . 

/  '  .  .  \ 

176  A   ROYAL   ROBBER  : 

The  old  gentlem-an  did  so  as  readily  and  willingly 
as  ever;  but  his  wife  soon  perceived  that  some  anxiety 
depressed  and  saddened  her  husband's  usually  cheer- 
ful temper. 

They  were  not  long  in  doubt  as  to  the  cause;  Hed- 
wig  and  Alma  learned  to  their  horror,  that  a  secret  and 
extraordinary^  session  of  the  council  had  taken  place 
before  the  festivities,  in  which  it  had  been  decided 
that  Syndicus  Frantz  should  immediately  go  secretly  to 
Vienna  to  consult  with  the  imperial  court  about  the 
ways  and  means  to  be  mutually  adopted  that  Strass- 
burg — exposed  to  the  assaults  of  France — might  retain 
its  independence,  and  be  held  as  one  of  the  most  im- 
portant strongholds  of  the  German  Empire.  This 
news  affected  Hedwig  and  Alma  most  painfully  in  more 
than  one  respect. 

"And  are  matters  really  so  bad  with  us?"  asked  the 
wife  with  an  expression  of  the  deepest  concern. 

"Alas!  yes,  my  loved  ones,"  he  said  in  a  low  tone, 
'the  political  horizon  has  grown  very  dark." 

"But  why  and  how?"  asked  his  wife.  "You  have 
never  told  me  that  affairs  were  considered   serious." 

"There  are  things  in  political  life  which,  unfortu- 
nately, must  be  dealt  with  in  secret." 

"What?"  said  Frau  Hedwig  in  a  mournful  tone.  "We 
have  been  married  more  than  five  and  twenty  years 
and  never  had  a  secret,  and  now?" 

"Hedwig!"  cried  the  Syndicus,  clasping  his  wife's 
hands  warmly  in  his  own.  "Hedwig,  dear,  good,  faith- 
ful wife,  do  not  misjudge  me. 


sSSPTFTpS^P' 


-y^jK.^'--?^i'ris£tg..i-ij;:ia.^^fasaaiMaa^ 


|BP»*'P^i»:^?F?»?^3^8Spgj^!*i*«TOaj!Bg^^ 


X        \^ 


"family  joys"  177 

"In  these  sad  times,"  repeated  the  Sx'ndicus  mourn- 
fully, passing  his  hand  gently  over  his  child's  fair 
hair,  and  pressing  a  kiss  upon  her  brow  with  fatherly 
anxiety,  "yes,  yes,  my  loved  ones,  it  may  be  that  the 
coming  da37s  will  be  indeed  grave  and  sad.  There  can 
no  longer  be  a  doubt,  Louis  XIV,  the  ambitious  and 
grasping  prince,  has  cast  his  eyes    upon    Strassburg. " 

"How  can  he?"  exclaimed  Alma,  alarmed  and  in- 
dignant. "Strassburg  is  German,  and  besides  that, 
is  a  free,  imperial  cit}'  which — as  the  present  day  has 
brilliantly  proved —has  its  own  free  government." 

"But  the  king  of  France  has  not  even  the  semblance 
of  a  claim  to  Strassburg,"  cried  Alma,  beaming  with 
patriotic  enthusiasm. 

"They  will  seek  for  it." 

"But  will  not  find  it!" 

"And  is  there  not  treachery,  force,  and   bribery?" 

"We  will  defend  ourselves!  Has  not  the  ceremony 
of  to-day  reminded  us  of  our  former  grandeur  and 
power.  ' 

"So  our  little    republic,"     continued    the    S3'ndicus, 

"resembles  a  ship   robbed    of   its    masts    and    rudder, 

given  up  to  all  that  wind  and    sea    can  do.     For  this 

reason,  my  dear    ones,  the  magistrates,  in    the    secret 

session  of  to-day,  resolved  that   I  should  immediately 

—to-morrow — quietly    proceed   to    Vienna,     represent 

the  condition  of   the  city  and    its    affairs  to    His  Maj- 

est}^.  Emperor    Leopold,  and    enteat  him    to    send  to 

our  aid  a  sufficient  army  of  allies." 
/2     Robber 


f 


^^^J-'S^-'-Vg^yi^lS^'l  •  '^*i!i^^ 


178 


A  ROYAL  ROBBER 


"Oh!  he  will  grant  it!"  cried  Alma,  "for  Strassburg 
is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  cities  of  the  German  Em- 
pire." 

"And  one  of  its  most  important  strongholds,"  added 

her  mother. 

"The  key  to  South  Germany,"  said  the  Syndicus 
seriously. 

At  this  moment  the  door-bell  rang. 
All  listened  in  surprise. 

"Who  can  be  coming  here  so  late?"  asked  Frau 
Hedwig,  whom,  the  excitement  had  made  unusually 
anxious, 

"Calm  yourselves,  children!"  answered  the  Syndicus, 
"it  is  probably  the  messenger   to  bring    me  the  neces-, 
sar}'  papers  and  letters  of  credit,  for  the    court    of  Vi- 
enna.     They  had  to  be  signed  by  the  new  Ammeister, 
who  had  only  just  returned  home  from  his  round." 

The  old  gentleman  was  not  mistaken;  it  was  really 
these  papers,  but  he  was  the  more  astonished  at  their 
bearer.  Instead  of  the  usual  messenger,  the  tall, 
slender  figure  of  Herr  Giinzer  entered. 

After  leaving  the  tailor's  guild-hall--not  in  the  best 
of  humors — Giinzer  had  gone  to  the  chief  magistrates, 
according  to  agreement,  to  have  the  papers  which  he 
had  prepared  signed  and  then,  to  the  delight  of  the 
messenger,  had  relieved  him  from  his  dut}',  saying  he 
would  undertake  it  himself. 

But  the  impressionhislatevisitmadeupon  the  Frantz* 
family  seemed  to  oe  neither  agreeable  nor  favorable. 


i^£^di^>^^>:i.iS^^'ii/Sktssu^M,^ias&:iiat,&- 


M** 


FAMILY  JOYS  179 

"What! "  exclaimed  the  Syndicus,  with  a  slight 
frown  upon  his  brow,  as  he  slowly  rose,  "do  you  bring 
me  the  despatches  yourself,  sir?" 

"Yes!"  replied  Giinzer,  bowing  to  the  old  gentleman 
and  the  ladies,  and  there  was  something  servile  in  his 
manner  and  expression  which  affected  them  disagree- 
ably. "Yes,"  he  repeated,  "in  my  position,  I  did  not 
wish  to  entrust  these  important  documents  to  any  other 
hands — you  know  what  kind  of  men  there  are  in  these 
evil  times,  one  cannot  trust  everyone." 

"But  the  old  messenger,  Andreas,  is  the  most  trust}' 
and  honest  soul  in  the  world." 

"Then  ascribe  it  to  m}'  patriotism,  that  I  undertook 
the  walk  myself!"  exclaimed  Giinzer,  as  he  handed  the 
old  gentleman  the  papers. 

The  frown  upon  the  Syndicus'  brow  darkened.  But 
he  recollected  himself  and  quietly  thanked  him  in  the 
name  of  the  cit3^ 

Herr  Giinzer  looked  smllin-gh'  at  the  ladies  and 
said:  "What  need  is  there  of  thanks?  E\f.ry  one  is 
more  or  less  of  an  egotist,  and  I  will  confess  that  I 
was  one  here.  The  reward  for  my  little  trouble  con- 
sists in  being  able  to  greet  such  estimable  ladies  again 
at  the  close  of  this  beautiful  and  oatriotic  festival;  may 
their  pictures  embellish  my  dreams." 

"The  best  pillow,"  answered  Hedwig,  "is  always  a 
good  conscience,  and  that  every  true  and  upright  friend 
of  our  Fatherland  has!" 

As  Syndicus  Frantz  and  his  family  made  no  farther 


^^^"^^^^^^'^     ;•  •X'^*-:~'r--^'^':   ^l:i^^^~'r^'^^i^ 


ptpyt^^Pjw'mwb 


y 


180 


A    ROYAL   ROBBER 


effort  to  detain  Gunzer — though  they  plainly  perceived 
that  he  wished  it — nothing  was  left  for  him  but  to 
take  leave,  especially  as  the  night  was  already  far 
advanced. 


'""■■'i''''^''---' r.-■_^~v:>;^.;,J»^■;.;■*J;..■l,■^.^^^>--■«;^.A■.:^J>:..-i,^ld■^^■.:J^ka^»jflV,^ 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

HANS    IM   SCHNAKENLOCH.* 

In  those  days  Strassburg  was  still  provided  with  six- 
teen regular  ramparts  pr  bastions,  the  most  important 
of  which  were  the  111,  the  St.  Elizabeth,  the  Metzger, 
the  Katherine,  the  Steinstrasser,.  the  Heiden  rampart, 
the  bastion  on  the  3'ellow  corner  and  the  watch  tower. 

Strassburg,  which  at  that  time  contained  thirty-two 
hundred  houses,  forty-five  hundred  families,  and  twen- 
ty-eight thousand  inhabitants,  therefore  possessed  de- 
fenses that  inspired  respect,  especially  as  she  did  not 
lack  guns  and  good  ones. 

Strassburg  burghers  were  not  a  little  proud  of  their 
guns,  arsenals,  and  fortresses,  and  this  pride  gave  most 
of  them  such  a  feeling  of  security,  that — without  being 
in  the  least  disturbed — they  looked  quietly  on  the 
seizures  of  land  made  by  Louis  XIV  In  Alsace. 

Skilled  In  commerce  and  business,  firm  In  their 
Lutheran  belief,  a  true  German  spirit  Imbued  most  of 
the  community.  Indeed  one  might  say  the  Strassburg 
burghers  of  that  time  were  true  German  patriots! 

And  yet  a  snake  was    creeping  In  the    grass,    whose 

coils  descended  from  the  higher  strata  of  society — nay 

181 
*   Hans  in  tbe  snake's  b«le. 


>£7^3i&!*t-^'^SSf#ir^iip.kS^- . 


f  *"''4T*^fl5§^^*5=^^Tt**^^^^"'^'^  *^*T^«^S  •-15^IS!!5^^':^ig559»*t%Sr*^T5B»S 


"^■rt:.>>'*:::vy>- 


182  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  I        " ., 

even  from  the  highest — that  of  the  government  itself, 

This  snake  was  the  little  party  of  French  partisans. 
The  crafty  Louvois  had  not  failed  to  provide  for  the 
timely  sowing  of  a  poisonous  seed,  through  whose 
gradual  growth  he  hoped  to  sniotlier  the  germ  of  good- 
ness, justice,  and  freedom  in  tlic  German  city.  And 
did  not  the  bishop  of  Strassburg,  Prince  Egon  von 
Fiirstenburg,  give  him  faithful  aid?  To  be  sure  the 
latter  lived  in  Cologne;  but  his  agents  were  numer- 
ous, and  toiled  secretly  in  Strasslnug;  and  he  too — 
often  went  there  in  disguise. 

But  Louvois'  right  hand  was  the  French  minister, 
Herr  von  Frischmann,  whom  Austria's  ambassador, 
Baron  von  Mere}-,  steadily  opposed.  In  the  mean- 
time, Prince  Egon  proselyted  through  his  emissaries, 
and  so  the  different  factions  toiled  and  worked  for 
a  long  time  in  secret,  before  the  simple,  ho;est  bur- 
ghers imagined  that  the  ground  under  their  feet  was 
becoming  hollow  and  insecure. 

And  yet  there  were  some  individuals  whose  keener 
eyes  obtained  some  idea  of  this  unlawful  action.  To 
possess  such  eyes  it  was  not  neecessary  to  be  of  noble 
birth;  more  or  less  penetration  is  often  given  to  the 
simplest  and  most  humble  men. 

Such  a  man  was  honest  Meister  Wenck. 

Franz  Blasius  Wenck  had  just  opened  the  door  of 
his  house,  which  stood  near  the  Hospital  gate.  It 
was  a  modest  little  building,  painted  red,  and  roofed 
with  burnt  tiles. 


&^>»tsi£n4^£^S 


i  HANS    IM    SCHNAKENLOCH  183  '^ 

Evening  had  closed   in,  and  Meister  Wenck  bad  laid     .    . 
down  his  work  to  take  a  walk    in  the  fresh    cold    air  : 

Wenck  was  a  widower  ,had  no  children,  and  always  ^ 

obtained    so   much   work    that,  with    his  very    modest  /^v! 

desires,  he  could  live  without  anxiet}-.  I 

But  the  little  tailor  had  other  cares.     He  had  much  .'■::; 

time  for  thought  and  reflection  as  he  sat    at  his  work,  •; ; 

and  moreover  a  heart  full  of  patriotism,  so  he  followed       .   \„:;i 
the  political  movements   of    his    time  with  a    watchful  n- 

eye.      Politics  were  his  delight.     But  this  love  of  poll-  .- 

tics  had  its  painful  side.      It   led  to    too  much   reflect- 
ing on  the  present.      Who  moved  the  world  now?   who      -       vs; 
but  Louis  XIV,  the  king  of  the  hated  Frenchmen,  and 
his  still  worse  minister.  Louvois?      And  what  political  •' 

events  were  shaking  the  repose  of  Europe?      No  other  ■ 

than  the  alarming  seizures  made  by  France  in    Alsace  . 

Holland,  England,  Spain,  and  abov6  all,  Germany 
and  the  German  emperor,  cried  out  to  the  world  against 
this  injustice,  all  these  countries  and  their  rulers 
solemnly  protested  against  this  violation  of  the  treaties 
of  Westphalia  and  N3'mwegen!  but — and  this  almost 
broke  Meister  Wenck's  heart — it  went  no  further  than 
protesting;  while  Louvois  took  one  part  of  Alsace  after 
another  and  incorporated  them  into  France. 

Thus  Meister  Wenck  had  seen  all  the  beautiful 
cities  of  Alsace  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  hated  French- 
men— and  now  it  seemed  to  him  as  if  Louis  was  also 
stretching  out  his  hands  towards  his  beloved  Strass- 
burg.      It  cut  Meister   Wenck    to    the    soul,  the    mere 


i>^^^^Sffiassii^»ki;f^feiaai>j.::.^aate.^^ 


pjKjT'   . , :-•  T-«^  v---»-rsr'^«" :•■  .'..:..-.<■•■.'  -■»■-.>■.-■-.. -,  -.^^-r^  i5?i?f«(W''W^l.i'Wwy(li!!i?!H^ 


184  A    ROYAL    ROKBF.R 

thought  of  it  made  him  wild.  But  he  felt  himself 
enough  of  a  man  to  stake  property  and  life,  for  her, 
and  would  not  all  the  citizens  of  Strassburg  think  the 
same?  His  guild  did,  Wenck  knew.  And  other  mem- 
bers of  the  community,  especial]}' the  guilds,  were  thor- 
oughly patriotic. 

But  there  was  one  thing  which  good  Meister 
Wenck  had  long  been  unable  to  drive  out  of  his  mind, 
and  that  was  the  thought  that  things  were  not  exactly 
right  with  the  magistrates.  S^'ndicus  Frantz  and  his 
party  were  true  patriots  and  honorable  men:  but  the 
little  tailor  had  nian\'  strange  ideas  about  Herr  Giinzer 
and  his  friends. 

Why,  in  such  dangerous  times,  should  a  wise  mag- 
istrate, from  motives  of  petty  economy,  send  home 
the  imperial  garrison  placed  in  Strassburg  for  her  se- 
curity? 

But  Giinzer  and  his  friends  prevailed,  and  the  city 
was  bereft  of  the  troops.  Meister  Wenck  shook  his 
head,  but  did  not  say  as  usual,  "Who  knows  what 
good  it  may  do?"  He  only  went  about,  humming  the 
old  Strassburg  national  song. 

But  when,  soon  after,  the  economical  gentlemen  also 
discharged  two-thirds  of  the  twelve  hundred  Swiss 
soldiers  in  the  pay  of  the  city — Meister  Wenck  ceased 
singing  and  humming,  and    became   graver  than    ever. 

He  became  more  watchful  of  the  course  of  things 
about  him,  and  of  certain  persons.  Herr  Giinzer  v.-as 
the  first  of   these.     Meister    Wenck    secretly    Avatched 


fc4£fa&&-..=jjjl^.;*<;. -^  ^>^fc^**^^i««c^j^iftfS|frtWit?-      .  ■■■■-■,:■■  v..  .■.-■-^.;->L^'----...-..-w-L,,-  .--•^.J'^'ir^m^k^- .  .a: .-ii^  ■.■..,^..-,,^^>»^^-,-^-T-,-.,^i,i^--^^ 


p^"?g8?l!S!SB^'wgfp^^wa^f|^«B«s»»yK^rws»i«3i»^'«;5»^^  ^'S 


HANS    IM    SCHNAKENLOCH  1 85 

him,  and  noticed  that  the  clerk  visited  the  French 
minister  more  than  usual.  To  be  sure,  Giinzer  prob- 
ably had  a  great  deal  of  government  business  to  trans- 
act with  Herrvon  Frischmann,  but  it  seemed  to  the 
little  tailor  that  there  could  not  be  any  necessity  for 
such  frequent  visits,  which  were  rendered  more  sus- 
picious from  the  fact  that  they. were  paid  at  night. 

Wenck's  suspicions  increased,  aijd  were  still  farther 
heightened  by  the  incident  at  the  tailor's  guild.  Why 
had  Giinzer,  who  always  showed  himself  in  public  and 
business  life  almost  ostentatiousl}'  patriotic  referred 
so  craftily  to  the  favors  of  the  French  and  even  cheered 
Louis  XIV. 

Meister  Wenck  was  puzzled.  He  still  kept  silent  to 
every  one.  He  had  been  reflecting  upon  the  matter  to- 
day at  his  work  till  his  head  burned  and  throbbed. 
He  determined  to  refesh  himself  by  an  evening  walk, 
and  went  towards  the  so-called  "Schnakenloch. " 

The  "Schnakenloch"  was  a  low  piece  of  ground  by 
the  water,  covered  with  houses,  which  the  snakes,  the 
pest  of  that  region,  chose  for  a  summer  resort  in  such 
multitudes  that  they  drove  away  every  sensitive  per- 
son. There,  in  the  little  tavern  which  bore  the 
peculiar  name  just  mentioned,  once  lived  a  host 
called  Hans,  an  original  fellow,  who  always  pretended 
to  be  foolish,  and  was  at  the  same  time  so  sharp,  that 
notwithstanding  the  snakes,  he  drew  guests  in  crowds 
by  his  assumed  simpHcit3',  so  that  he  became  quite  a 
rich  man. 


afeLiAaJ-.^--'-.-.      -■■  -  -  -•i-jaifih''ffiiraift°*'-^'**!-'^-''"-"'''''''''^'*«-'^^ 


t 
1 86  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  ^  I      "-  ^^  ^^^^ '     i^^^ 

The  satirical  songs  made  upon  Hans  im  Schnaken-  *>■" 
loch  are  in  the  mouths  of  the  common  people  and  .^'i 
children  to  this  da}'.  At  that  time  It  was  even  more  :^3 
the  case,  although  Hans   was    dead    and    the    inn  had  'i 

sunk  into  a  miserable  tavern.      Meister  Wenck   would       ;  ^S 
have  hardly  visited  it,  If  the  present  host  had  not  been     ,    '  ^, 
a  distant  relative  of  his  and    also  a  poor    man    and    a 
widower,  who  with  his  seven   children,  needed   assist-       :  -^ 
ance. 

So  Franz  Blaslus  went  there  occasionally  and  drank 
and  paid  for  his  mug  of  wine,  but   almost   always   left        ■  . ; 
a  gold  piece  lying  under  his  tin  cup.    To-day,  too,  this 
was  to  be  the  case,  and   the  little    tailor  went  merrily  "„ 

on  his  way.  -^    v.' 

Meister  Wenck  drew  his  fur-lined  cloak  closer  round       -  ■■ 
him,  pressed  the  helmet-like   cap  more  firmly  upoi:  liis      _   :■ 
head,     and    inhaled    tlie    cold    evening     air    in      d  .ep 
draughts.      The\'    were    good    for    him,  and    refreshed         ;:?.' 
both    body    and    soul.      Wenck,     notwithstanding    his  4 

small  figure  and  advanced   years,  was  a    vigorous    and 
healthy  man.     If,  in    former    times,  in    the    fatigues,  z 

privations  and    hardships  that  often  fell  to  his  lot  in 
war,  he  had  frequentl}'  exclaimed  for  his  own  consola-         .?. 
tlon,  "Who  knows  what  good  it  may  do!"   the    saying 
had  really  been  verified. 

His  heart,  too,  was    sound:    the    little    tailor    knew 
no  fear,  or  he  would  not    have    so  quietly    passed  the 
gallows,  which  In  those  days  was  erected  in  every  neigh-      ,  "  ?; 
borhood.     Ravens,  startled  at   his  approach,  fluttered         - ; 


L-'-f-iJ-^WrtXicUir-^ 


J^:.^S:.-^^it^  Tj— TJgWMWrttr^'lMfeJj-WVO 


*r;*^L-¥«^       ^~ 


HANS    IM    SCHNAKENLOCH  187 

with  hoarse  cries  around  the  fatal  pillars,  upon  the 
cross-bar  of  which  hung  th^  body  of  a  criminal  swa}^- 
ing  in  the  wind.  ^ 

The  inn  of  the  "Schnakenloch"  was  only  about  a  rifle 
shot  distant.  It  was  the  first  of  the  few  poor,  misera- 
ble housesin  this  unhealthy  locality;  scarcely  anyone 
visited  it  at  such  an  hour,  and  yet  it  seemed  to  him 
as  if  some  one  were  following  him  along  the  road. 
He  now  heard  very  plainly  steps  and  voices,  but  he 
could  see  nothing,  for  thick  clouds  covered  the  moon. 
Security  at  night  and  in  the  woods  was  not  known  at 
that  time.  Meister  Wenck  knew  no  fear,  but  he  was 
by  no  means  foolhardy.  "Before  me  is  better  than 
behind    me"  thought  he,  and  moved  aside. 

The  steps  came  nearer.  In  the  stillness  of  night 
words  could  be  easily  distinguished. 

"What  time  is  it?"  asked  a  man's  voice. 

"Probably  about  eight   o'clock,"  answered    another. 

"Then  we  shall  arrive   at  the  right  hour." 

Wenck's  astonishment  increased.  He  recognized 
the  voices:  he  had  heard  them  only  a  short  time  before. 
"Arrive  at  the  right  hour?"  he  said  softly  to  himself, 
"where  and  for  what?  and  who  may  the  speakers  be? 
"I  will,  if  possible,  let  them  pass  me,  and  then  follow," 
murmured  the  tailor.  "Who  knows  what  good  it  maj' 
do!" 

At  the  same  moment  he  noiselessly  laid  down  on 
the  frozen  ground  close  to  the  road.  The  dark  mass 
was  scarcely  to  be  distinguished  from  the  earth. 


^E&»i^iifcJfea<atai<st««r;^i»j»i-^-a-.^«i^ 


-^"'•^-?»5SJ5HM5%  -  '  ^  "^  ''■'!'™'=''''¥'''-«'''5^'^'i'F'W''W'~?'^'^ 


I 88  A    ROYAL    ROBBKR  - 

The  men  came  nearer.  Wenck  heard  every  word 
they  said. 

"And  will  our  friends  surely  come?"* 

"Undoubtedly.- 

"It  is  a  long  journey." 

"But  the  prospect  is  remunerative." 

"Who  can  know  that?" 

"Do  you  already  doubt  the  result?" 

"No." 

'Well  then,  don't  let  your  courage  fail." 

"Still,  I  am  often  anxious." 

"Are  you  a  man?" 

"Even  a  strong  man  may  have  scruples  and  hesi- 
tate." 

"Why?" 

"What  will  our  contemporaries  and  ensuing  ages 
say?" 

"Oh!  faint  heart!  Shall  we  arrive  at  our  end  and 
aim  by — " 

Here  the  speaker's  words  were  lost.  A  flight  of 
ravens  which,  croaking  and  screaming,  drew  near  the 
gallows,  prevented  Wenck  from   hearing    more. 

"That  was   Giinzer!"  he    cried    softly,    starting    up. 

"So  truly  as  God  lives,  that  was  that  rogue  of  a 
clerk.  I  must  know  what  is  going  on.  Who  knows 
what  good  it  ma}'  do  and  this  much  is  certain:  im- 
portant business  is  on  foot.  If  the  judgment  of  pres- 
ent and  future  ages  is  concerned,  the  point  in  question 
must  be  some  great  deed  or  great  rascality."  / 


■^t^ia,->ir,i±.^AaSili!iii)llik-^i~^.^...^~.,..:4^^,^.^,J^tta:-^^^ 


.    1 

i&MiS.te.ia^g^ifiVtiMirifi|||i^ 


5Sp(^K1^9^'*T''^'*'^?'S=*'!S^^5'^**'*WWE^^  ^•-^-'^".■^j-i-^  «S^|«W!> 


HANS  IM   SCHNAKENLOCH  189 

Meister  Wenck  softly  hurried  after  the  nocturnal 
wanderers. 

Soon  he  Recognized  them  again  in  the  darkness. 

The  tailor  crept  up  to  the  house.  The  window 
shutters  were  tightly  closed.  Only  the  noise  and  cries 
of  the  children  were  heard  in  the  inn. 

Meister  Wenck  looked  up.  Above  was  another 
room,  which  in  former  and  better  times,  had  served 
as  a  parlor  for  city  guests.  But  here,  too,  thick  shut- 
ters closed  every  opening. 

Suddenly  the  listener  distinguished  the  tramp  of 
several  horses  in  the  distance,  and  directly  after  steps 
approached. 

Two  men,  wrapped  in  large,  dark  mantles,  drew 
near  the  house.  Both,  from  their  manner,  seemed  to 
belong  to  the  higher  class,  and  one  of  them,  espec- 
ially, had  a  tall,  stately  figure. 

They  silently  entered  the  doorway. 

So  they  had  come  on  horseback  within  a  short  dis- 
tance, and  then  dismounted.  A  servant  was  probably 
holding  their  horses.  Wenck  was  more  perplexed  than 
ever,  but  how  the  devil  should  he  learn  more  of  this 
secret  meeting,  about    which    he   suspected  no   good? 

He  was  still  standing  lost  in  thought,  when  a  girl 
about  fourteen  years  old  stepped  out  of  the  door  of 
the  hut.  It  was  Franzchen,  the  host's  eldest  child,  to 
whom  Meister  Franz  Blaslus  had  stood  godfather. 

The  young  girl  started  back  as  she  saw  a  man  stand* 
ing  in  the  shade. 


ki^aHsSi^i^^Sii^^ 


iKiit;Siiiaii.cfik*sSii*Jti-L-''iijjit:;.^'jf^::S::~.*-^?£iCV-^  -■■,■■,!>.' .'..'...  ''y.:^i-- •--■,•     .-<,■.■   -■.., -■■/-^SKfea^'^-  ■-    '.'.,   ,        ..■'. .,  i-  .-  ,■  ^r-^-^^tr^lj'y^j^ 


IgO  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  -■? 

"Who  is  there?"   she  cried. 

"Hush,  Franzchen,"     replied  Wenck,  "it    is   I,  your 
godfather." 

"Oh!   oh!"  cried  the    child    in    delight.      "My    god- 
father— and  so  late?" 

"Why,"  said  the  tailor,  "it  does  not  seem  to   be   so 
late  with  you,  you  have  guests?" 

"We?"  asked  the  child,  gazing  at  him    in   astonish- 
ment. 

"Who  else!" 

"You  are  mistaken,  godfather!  no  one    is  here    but 
my  brothers  and  sisters." 

"And  your  father?" 

"He  has  gone  to  the  city." 

"And  you  have  no  guests?" 

"Oh!     dear,    they   come   seldom    enough.     Once    in 

while  a  workman!" 

"Come,  Friinzchen, "    said    the    tailor  reproachfully, 
"tell  your  godfather  the  truth  ...   I  saw — " 

He  stopped    and    corrected    himself:      "I  thought  I 
lieard  some  one  talking  in  the  dining  room." 

"It  was  us." 

"You?" 

"Yes,  I  and  my  brothers  and  sisters." 

"Well  then,  perhaps  it  was  in  the  upper-room." 

"That  is  locked,  and  father    has  the  key  with  him." 

Wenck  shook  his  head.     Could   the  child  be  telling 
an  untruth? 

Meister  Wenck  was    reflecting    upon  this,  when  the 
young  girl  innocently  exclaimed: 


'. <o.'      r?"      -"  -J  '•'"r'[T'r"ii  fm'fifrifi^'ii'''iiiimV'iilii<riTr^iiri«K?ii^^ 


HANS   IM   SCHNAKENLOCH  I9I 

"But,  godfather,  how  strange  you  are  to-day,  staying 
out  here  in  the  cold  and  darkness.  Come  in.  I  will 
put  the  little  ones  to  bed,  and  then  get  your  mug  of 
wine!" 

And  with  these  words  Franzchen  drew  the  ahvays 
welcome  guest  to  the  door.  Wenck  followed  without 
resistance,  and  found  no  one  but  the  children  in  the 
room. 

Loud  cries  of  joy  welcomed  the  tailor.  The  children 
eagerly  ran  up  to  him  and  clung  around  his  knees. 
Franzchen  pushed  them  away  as  well  a  she  could,  took  ■ 

the  little  ones  to  bed,  and  on  her  return  placed  a  cup 
of  wine  before  her  godfather,  who  in  the  meantime, 
had  sat  down  at  the  dirty  old  table.  \  .. 

Two  boys  were    riding    on  his  knees,  but  the  tailor 
seemed  to  be  thinking  of    other    things.      He   pricked 
up  his  ears  to  hear  if  there  were  any  noises  above  him 
Everything  remained  quiet. 

Suddenly  a  bright  thought  seemed  to  occur  to  him; 
he  put  his  hand  into  his  pocket  and  laid  on  the  table 
as  many  copper  pieces  as  there  were  children  in  the 
room  with  the  exception  of  Franzchen.  The  little  ones 
looked  on  with  e5'^es  and  mouths  wide  open. 

"Do  you  see  this  money?"  said  the  tailor. 

"Yes,"  all  exclaimed. 
I  "Well,"  continued    Wenck,  "whoever    goes  directly 

I         to  bed  shall  have  one  of  these  pieces." 
I  I     .       "Hurrah!"  in  one  moment  money  and  children  were 
f|         gone. 


iii^m2.i«£<^ 


pB55ir»"*t^r.T.-"--.'^»-  ■-«l'pMfjJil^'--»?'^!«'<7^-rH5a?^.7^'if-'»iSr"g«^^ 


192  A    ROYAL    ROBBER 

Wenck  and  Franzchen  laughed  heartily. 
The  girl's  godfather  now  drew  her  towards  him,  and 
patting  her  cheek,  said: 

"I  am  making  a  new  bodice  for  my  little  goddaugh- 

tit 
er. 

'For  me!"  cried  the  child,  her   eyes   sparkling  with 
pleasure. 

"For  you!  and  it  is    a    Sunday    bodice,  ornamented 
with  ver}'  pretty,  bright  braid." 

"Oh!   godfather,  you  are  so  good — " 

"Hush,  my  child!"  said  Wenck,    kissing  her  on  the 
forehead. 

"How  shall  I  thank  you  for  it?" 
You  can. 

"But  how?" 

"If  you  will  do  me  a  favor. " 

"Anything,  anything,  godfather." 

"Give  me  your  father's  doublet,  cap,  and  apron." 

The  child  looked  at  him    in    astonishment.     Wenck 
smiled. 

"It  is  for  a  joke,"  said  he.      "I  want  to  represent  old 
Hans  of  Schnakenloch.     You  know  the  song." 

Franzchen  laughed.    The  little  tailor,  with  his  droll 
.face,  certainly  looked  comical  enough. 

"So,  godfather,"  said  she  smiling.      "I  am  really  to 
bring  you  father's  doublet,  cap,  and  apron?" 

"Yes,  child,"  answered    Wenck,  pulling  off  his  fur- 
lined  coat.  . 

The  child  brought   him   what  he    wished,    and  the 


Sxia  -iitf :  a('6  Ta^^!C^ 


"    A.;    .  -      MAKs    1M    bCHNAKEN..OCH  _  193 

little  tailor  dressed  himself  in  the  clothes.     The  little 
figure    looked    infinitely     comical.       Neither    he    nor 
'  Franzchen  could  help  laughing. 

"And  now,"  said  the  tailor,  placing  some  money  up- 
on the  table,  "now  Viring  me  a  large  can  of  your  best 
wine. " 

The  little  girl  again  obeyed. 

When  she  had  brought  the  wine,  Wenck  put  the 
cap  upon  his  head  and  took  the  can. 

"I  shall  be  back  in  a  few  moments,"  said  he,  and 
left  the  house,  to  the  increased  astonishment  of  Franz- 
chen'. 

The  child    glided  to    the    door  after  him  ,    ,   .    but 
her  godfather  soon  disappeared  in  the  darkness. 

When  Meister  Wenck  found  iiimself  ajone,  he  stop- 
ped and  listened, 

All  right!  at  a  shori  distance  horses  were  being  led 
up  and  dowii- 

Wenck  followed  the  sound  of  the  steps. 

After  about  ten  minutes,  lie  found  a  groom  sitting 
in  the  saddle  and  leading  two  other  horses  up  and 
dowm.  The  poor  fellow  was  shaking  with  the  cold 
and  gave  vent  to  his  ill-humor  by  a  soliloquy,  which 
consisted  principally  of  oaths  and  imprecations  on  his 
master, 

"The  devil  takesuch  service,"  he  growled,  "I'll  be 
damned  if  the  horses  and  I  don't  freeze  to-night." 

He  stopped  and  breathed  on  the  hand  which  held  the 

horses'   bridles.     Wenck    listened:    that    was  no  resi- 
/_j     Robbtr 


ajfeSkE^iiiS^^^feifc  aSagiSiasaiBi-'-  £iii^a«i»&Lf  ;;iaBaE:..3aigfi^^ 


■,-s^  «*,i5)ii^>'r_*-W,r!~'"^i:^-^!5j.r9(i^ 


194  A   ROYAL   ROBBER  ';    ' 

dent  of  Strassburg.     To  be  sure  he  spoke  German,  but 
with  the  dialect  of  the  Lower  Rhine. 

"What  has  the  holy  man  to  do  in  this  rascally  neigh- 
borhood at  night?"  growled  the  groom.  "For  I  will  be 
hanged  if  the  place  where  those  faint  lights  are  shin- 
ing isn't  Strassburg." 

"Holy  man?"  repeated  Wenck. 

"Thunder  and  the  devil!  I  wish  we  had  stayed  in 
Cologne,"  grumbled  the  groom  again,  as  he  turned 
the  horses.  "The  pious  lord  bishop  treats  us  like  dogs, 
to  be  sure,  but  one  is  at  home,  and  here  we  creep  about 
this  heretic  city  like  thieves  and  lodge  in  the  rat's 
nest  at  Illkirch!" 

"Hm!  the  bishop  of  Strassburg,"  thought  the  tailor. 
"Oh!  ho!  what  is  the  prince  of  Fiirstenburg  doing 
here  at  night,  in  the  fog,  and  with  the  city  clerk  too?" 

"I  know  what  I'll  do,"  continued  the  groom,  blowing 
on  his  hands  again,  "if  there  is  another  war  I'll  run  away. 
It  is  quite  a  different  life  with  the  soldiers,  drudgery 
enough  there,  but  one  has  a  good  share  of  it  here  too. " 
The  groom  stopped,  he  had  noticed  the  dark  figure 
approaching  him. 

"Who  goes  there?"  he  cried,  in  the  tone  of  a  sen- 
tinel. 

"A  good  friend!"  answered  Wenck. 

"What  do  you  want?" 

"To  drive  away  the  cold  for  you  with  a  mug  of 
wine." 

"Who  are  you?" 


';i-^,-'i-ii---i-i  -1-     ■    ''-i    -"'  ■'iniflaiii&lin-    ■  i-'ilrwy-^rl-r' f  .i-.-,    ■-  r..~iir-=a'a'ia>T;i^'1tlilt.Sgr1#itf?i^^''»'°-'-''^^^ 


^^SiW^^^TO^swi^sSMSSS^iS^s^isi^'ss^s^SS^^ag-s.'^^^---  -  -  '>'\^.' 


HANS    IM   SCHNAKENLOCH  195 

"The  host  of  the  Schnakenloch!" 

"Of  what  kind  of  a  loch?" 

"Of  Schnakenloch,  that's  the  name  of  my  inn  there. " 

"Is  it  a  good  tavern?" 

"If  the  prince  bishop  of  Strassburg  goes  th^-ie,  it 
can't  be  very  poor." 

"I  don't  care!"  exclaimed  the  groom,  "if  3'ou  liave 
really  got  some  wine,  hand  it  to  me.  It's  damnably 
cold.      I'm  shivering  all  over." 

Meister  Wenck  gave  him  the  inug.  One  could  see 
that  the  groom  was  at  home  on  tlie  Rhine,  and  had 
studied  drinking  with  German  soldiers;  he  emptied 
the  enormous  mug  at  three  swallows. 

"And  who  sent  me  the  wine?"  he  asked,- returning 
the  empty  mug. 

"Your  master!"  answered  Wenck,  "the  lord  bishop, 
Prince  Franz  Egon  von  Fiirstenbevg. " 

"Man!"  cried  the  groom,  "the  devil  put  that  lie  in 
your  mouth," 

"And  isn't  he  your  master?" 

"To  be  sure  he  is  .  .  .  but  he  would  never  send  wine 
to  his  servants,  even  if  they  were  dying  of  thirst  and 
cold;  he's  eaten  up  with  avarice,  and  besides — " 

"Well?" 

"He'd  rather  drink  the  wine  himself." 

"There  was  another  gentleman  with  him,"  said 
Wenck  inquiringly. 

"That's  so." 

"He  ordered  me  to  bring  you  the  wine." 


'yriKniiSfiiM'''^''^^^'^''^^-'-''-'-^-'"^^^  „-.trfV-!ri-.-Vi.^^v:;  .    •  -jtwi  --gas..:.'  -. >t-..^;  "  --,  ■-,.:.- .^.'^j^jas 


-x^~*iTy-^?'««a*^^¥^»"ffl!^^y'»pr^5«BS*?^^  *£• 


196  A    ROYAL   R0BB5R 

"He?"  \ 

"Who  is  he?" 

"How  should  I  know?" 

"Didn't  he  come  with  you  from  Cologne?" 

"bio  we  met  him,   well  muffled  in  his  cloak,  waiting 
for  us  un  horseback  near  the  great  stone  cross. " 
"Where  is  that?" 
•  "About  half  an  hour's  ride  from  here." 

"And  you  don't  know  }iim?" 

"Thunder!  "  swore  the  groom.  "Mr.  Host  of — what 
kind  of  a  loch?" 

"Schnakenloch ! " 

"Well;  Mr.  Host  of  Schnakenloch,  you  are  deuced 
curious. " 

"Well,  welli"  said  Wenck,  "who  knows  what  good  it 
may  do!  Everyone  has  his  weak  points.  While  the 
gentlemen  are  sitting  up  there  at  rny  house,  we  can 
gossip  a  little  down  here.      Were  you  ever  a  soldier?" 

"Yes." 

"So  was  I.      I  fought  with  the  Imperialists," 

"Really!" 

"And  have  you  no  desire  to  worship  the  god  of  war 
again? 

"Yes. 

"With  the  Imperialists? 

"No!" 
~    Wenck  perceived  by    the    short,  gruff    answer,  that 
the  man  was  tired  of  his   many  questions.      He  vainly 
tried  to  induce  him   to    speak  of  the  bishop's  compan- 


iliilil^^iiiTnafr^'fTiiihiMfif^filf^ 


iS6S^^4Pr^*^''^''''?^s^^^'^^Mr  *  .^^'T^^^wp^ge^^ 


;;  ■    _        HANS  iM  schna:s^enloch       .    .^  197 

Ion,  the  groom  stuck  to  his  sullen  "yes"  and  "no,  *  and 
would  not  give  him  any  information. 

He  even  refused  another  mug  of  wine,  and  at  last 
relapsed  into  total  silence. 

"Well,"  said  Wenck  with  feigned  friendliness,  "no 
offense!"  and  retired. 

Though  he  had  got  very  little  out  of  the  man,  that 
little  was  of  great  importance  to  him.  This  much  was 
certain:  Herr  Gihizer,  v/ith  the  bishop  of  Strassburg 
and  some  other  disguised  gentlemen,  were  holding  a 
ver\-  suspicious  meeting  here,  and  in  such  times  that 
was  quite  enough  for  a  patriot  lil^e  Meister  Wenck. 

But  what   was  he  to  do  with  this  Ciiscovery? 

He  thought  of  various  things--  and  at  last  deter- 
mined to  go  very  early  the  next  rnoniing  to  worthy 
Syndicus  Frantz,  and  inform  him  of  the  history  of 
this  evening. 

Franzchen  was  waiting  for  him  with  tlie  greatest 
impatience.  The  clothes  were  soon  changed.  Meister 
Wenck  paid  for  the  wine,  pushed  the  customary 
present  under  the  mug,  told  his  little  godchild 
to  come  next  day  for  the  new  bodice,  and  departed 
with  a  paiernal  kiss. 

All  the  wa}-  home  he  was  absorbed  in  reflections 
about  what  had  just  ocurred.  It  was  strange  that 
fate  had  led    him    to    the    Schnakenloch    on  this  very 


evenmg. 


"It  is  strange!"   said  he  as  he  went  to  bed,  "but  who 
knows  what  good  it   may  do-" 


■^»":<7*f^i^"' ;  •  r*'^:  -•■■,-:i3if^'^-  f.  \t:^» 


^f  ■v^p^'wt^?^^^™ 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

ALMA. 

How  grand  and  majestic,  yet  how  light  and  grace- 
ful, is  the  beautiful  cathedral  of  Strassburg,  the  great 
work  of  the  gifted  Erwin  von  Steinbach,  as  it  towers 
into  the  bhie  sky  a  pure  petrified  prayer? 

Yes,  that  is  German  architecture  as  Erwin  von  Stein- 
bach was  German — and  Strassburg  and  Alsace  also. 
The  cathedral  was  steeped  in  beautiful  sunlight,  for  it 
was  a  lovely  Sunday  morning,  clear,  bright  and  freSh 
as  only  January  could  bring.  The  bells  in  all  the 
towers  rang  solemnly  and  gravely  summoning  the 
honest  burghers  to  church  with  their  iron  tongues. 

But  in  one  heart  they  aroused  no  feelings    of    piety 

only    hatred    and    envy  .   .   .   and  that    was    the    heart 

of  Prince  Fiirstenberg,  who  with  the  early  morning  had 

come  into  the  city  in  disguise.     He  who  bore  the  title 

of  Bishop  of  Strassburg  now  lived  far  from  his  diocese; 

for  since  the  Reformation  there    had    scarcely    been    a 

hundred  Cafholic  families  in  Lutheran   Strassburg  and 

the    Cathedral  was  in  the  hands    of    the    Protestants. 

Lutheran  preachers  proclaimed  within  its  sacred  walls 

Lutheran  doctrines.     The  Prince  Bishop    foamed  with 

rage  when  he  thought  of  it.      The  cathedral  originally 

193 


ai^....>-^->gr.-  :,t, :.,^y.-'-:-..<i»ifeiaafei!^<.., ■/-gr.;^-^^^»....MikArliJja-^a>i^aM^i^^^  ,  ji'iii  iiiiiiiiiiiiiBilMHMHBiriirit'ii  i'"ii'inr  'Tiif'iBliiS 


KS^W?»^^¥«PB^BB^«™^^s«C^!5eSI|l*  w?*'  i«i^;r»^!jT(r,4B5'g!?f™«!r»'<r  ' 


ALMA  X99 

belonged  to  the  true  Church — the  reformation  had 
only  robbed  them  of  it — and  the  Bishop  Egon  should 
in  justice  and  by  right  rule  in  this  beautiful  building. 

Such  were  the  bishop's  thoughts  while,  the  bells 
were  ringing;  and  the  hatred  against  the  unbelievers 
\A\o  now  possessed  the  minister  swelled  his  heart  with 
fury. 

The  Prince  Bishop  bit  his  lips  his  eyes  flashed 
defiantly  but  a  voice  in  the  depths  of  his  heart 
cried:  "Patience,  we  will  yet  conquer.  Let  Strassburg 
but  become  French  and  then  we  shall  return  to  it 
again.  By  all  the  saints  I,  I  Prince  Bishop  of  Strass- 
burg, will  yet  lead  Louis  IV  into  the  cathedral  a 
victor." 

Modest,  austere  and  truly  pious  was  Alma — the  lovely 
daughter  of  the  worthy  Syndicus  Frantz — as  she 
walked  to  church'  at  her  mother's  side.  Her  eyes  were 
cast  down;  her  hands  held  the  little  black  silver-clasped 
hymn-book.  The  long  Journey  which  her  father  was 
obliged  to  take  in  the  severe  weather,  and  the  long 
separation,  was  hard  for  the  child  who  loved  her 
parents  so  fondly;  besides  this,  came  fears  for  the  be- 
loved cit}-,  whose  unhappy  position  the  old  gentleman 
had  explained  to  her  mother  and  herself  in  confidence, 
and  finally  anxiety  for  tlie  love  she  bore  in  her  heart, 
and  which  seemed  to  meet  with  more  and  more  ob- 
stacles every  day.  Frau  Hedv/ig  walked  along  gravely 
and  silently.  She  was  thinking  of  her  distant  hus- 
band and  of  the  storms  which  threatened  the  future. 


a>-LAiLg^Ii?a£i:.;;-j=^^i5;:a>-a^fefa,^^ 


-■f*^pf^!f^«^-.^-^-T;^'-''i=->:rT=r:^^^^f'^*s-,.w5^  ---i^^s-^^ 


200  A   ROVAL   RORBFR  :  -.      :     > 

But  tb.e  bells    rang    on    gravely    and    solemnly  and 

called  to  every  one  needing  consolation — come!  come! 
come!  come!  And  actual!}'  there  came  Herr  Giinzer.  . 
He  never  failed  to  be  at  church.  Hov/  hancisomely  he 
was  dressed,  and  how  he  held  his  prayer-book  so  that 
every  one  could  see  itt  His  manner  was  quiet  and 
grave,  and  he  saluted  the  respected  Frau  Frantz  and 
her  daughter  v;ith  a  low  bow  as  the}'  entered  the' 
church.  The  former  returned  his  salutation  with  dig, 
nity,  but  Alma  did  not  notice  it.  ' 

More  burghers  and  their  wives  came  streaming  in. 
The  little  tailor^  Franz  Blasius  Wenck,  came  across 
the  market-place  and  by  the  old  "Rfalz,"  the  residence 
of  the  councilor.  But  he  was  not  as  merry  as  usual. 
There  was  a  sorrowful  expression  in  his  little,  spark- 
ling eyes-. 

Meister     Wenck    had    vainly    sought    for    Syndicus 
Frantz  to  intonn  him  of   the    suspicious    meeting    be-- 
tween  Giinzer   and  tlie    bishop.      Tl.e   Syndicus — so  he 
was  told— had  gone  away  on  business.      But  the  secret 
depressed  and  Vv'oie  apor;  Wenck,  wlio  loved    the    wel- 
fare of  his  falLerland  v.ith  n-is  whole   soul.      To   whom 
should  he  confess  il^      From  whom  might  he   hope  for- 
counsel  and   consolation?      Yes!     there    was    one    who 
could   give    comfort,     and    that    was    the    One    above,  ^' 
who    surely    knevv    how    to    protect     Strassburg    from 
treacher}',  and  were  not^the  bells  ringing  out  solemnly : 
come!   come!   come!  come! 

W'juck   entered.    He  had  just  reached  his  place  when 


tfs-iS"'  afigffia'mi^i^'^teli  laMiteSiRft  '.•»taiaB«aiaasE'4;  ahgip^ 


»^?*?^^^^^^5?£/--?*^^***^?-i^i'**"^^^^  ':- . 


ALMA 


20 1 


the  organ  sent  forth  its  mighty  waves  of  sound  through 
the  church,  far  above  the  heads  of  the  worshipers. 

Then  the  tones  died  av/ay,  and  the  worthy,  old  mi n- 
i^ster,  with  the  snow-white  hair  and  ilie    mild,  benevo 
lent  expression,  entered  the  chancel. 

All  present  devoutly  foilov^ed  the  pious  v.'ords  of  the 
worthy  minister — with  only  one  exception,  though  lie 
tried  to  express  in  his  manner  the  utmost  attention 
and  the  greatest  interest. 

This  person  was  Giliizei',  wliose  miud  was  occupied 
with  ver}'  different  thouglus.  Hugo,  liie  son  of  Stett- 
meister  von  Zedlitz,  sat  not  far  frorfi  ]iin:i,  and  oppo- 
site him,  in  the  ladies'  seai,  was  llie  wife  of  Syndicus 
Frantz  v/lth  her  pretly-   daugliler. 

Herr  Ganzer,  therefore:;  had  plcjit}'  of  opportunit} 
to  observe  the  two  3'oung  people,  and  indeed  did  so 
all  the  more  sharp!}'  because  jealousy  lent  him  her 
e3'es. 

Gunzer  sat  with  his. tall,  slender  body  bending  for- 
ward, and  his  Liead  on- one  side  as  if  wholly  engrossed 
in  the  sermon.  His  manner  expressed  interest  and 
devotion,  his  eyes  were  cast  down,  but  from  under  the 
eyelids  constant  glances  wandered  towards  Hugo  ami 
Alma. 

These  looks  had  long  since  made  him  av.are  of  an 
uncomfortable  secret.  There  could  be  no  doubt  that 
the  young  people  loved  each  other.  The  sudden  Idusli 
when  they  saw  each  other  on  entering  their  pew  be- 
trayed it;  it  was  confirmed  by  the  joyous  flash  uf  their 


A^S^^fS^iLaS^im^^iiBi^ 


-3      *  r.  J.    '  - 


■-  ■^■'  '  '"^^  Jis*'*^  isgi^^g^Btaf M'  y wi^BjggptMjyMj^Mti  ILPKiis^^^ggg^^^   ?^p?^sgp^' 


202  A   ROYAL   ROBBER 

eyes  if  they  chanced  to  meet  during  the  singing. 
Gunzer  was  convinced  that  the  two  hearts  were  not 
indifferent  to  each  other.  This  would  have  made  him 
very  uneasy,  now  that  he,  too,  was  interested  in  Alma, 
if  the  rupture  between  the  two  families  was  not  well 
known,  a  rupture  which  he  secretly  sought  to  nourish 
and  increase  in  every  possible  manner.  But  Syndicus 
Frantz  and  Stettmeister  Zedlitz  both  had  strong  wills 
and  characters,  that  were  not  easily  influenced.  It 
was  not  possible  that  they  would  permit  a  serious  love 
affair  between  their  children.  Gunzer  relied  upon 
this;  still  he  was  too  wise  a  man  of  the  world  to  trust 
the  awakening  passion  of  love  in  two  young  hearts. 
He  knew  that  love  was  a  playful  chi-ld,  but  often  be- 
came a  lion  that  would  tear  away  all  barriers. 

Hugo  had  more  than  once  put  his  hand  to  bis  left 
side,  as  if  he  wished  to  assure  himself  that  he  still 
had  what  was  hidden  in  the  breast  pocket  of  his  coat. 
At  the  same  time  this  was  probably  a  sign  to  the 
young  girl. 

"What  could  it  be?  A  present  for  Alma?  A^poem 
addressed  to  her? — Hugo  wrote  poetry — or  perhaps 
even  a  love-letter  with  a  passionate  declaration,  and 
such  a  written  offer  the  clerk  feared  very  muchj  but 
it  was  to  be  expected,  for  how  otherwise  could  Hugo 
approach  her?" 

Whatever  it  might  be,  it  was  to  be  given  to  the 
Syndicus'  daivgbter  secretly,  for  she  would  not  leave 
her  mother's  side.      The  only  possibility  of  approach- 


S-yu'jySS&'is^ie,!\-i)lif3fM^Sillj^ 


f'S«!»^^^^<^f^!5'i^^!fs^!^T^'*^^^«^'^^^''™*C 


ALMA  203 

ing  Alma  was  as  the  people  streamed  out  of  church, 
and  it  would  then  be  necessary  to  watch  clo^el}'. 

The  benediction  was  pronounced,  the  notes  of  the 
organ  again  pealed  forth,  and  the  mass  of  people 
surged  towards  the  doors. 

They  were  pressed  and  crushed  so  that  It  w?.s  scarce!}' 
possible  to  move  hand  or  foot.  In  fact  one  would 
need  to  be  as  cat-like  and  slippery,  a  Giinzer,  to 
squeeze  through  and  gain  one's  chosen  position.  He 
succeeded.  He  was  now  close  behind  Alma,  who  with 
eyes  modestly  cast  down,  left  the  church  at  her 
mother's  side,  as  she  had  entered  it,  without  looking 
at  the  crowd  pressing  behind  and  about  her. 

Giinzer  tried  to  stoop  as  if  he  had  dropped  some- 
thing. 

Jit  -  the  same  moment  a  hand  holding  a  letter, 
touched  Alma's  dress. 

The  young  girl  started,  her  book  slipped  from  her 
iiand,  she  tried  to  catch  it,  but  Gflnzer  had  already 
grasped  it  and  handed  it  to  her  again. 

Hugo's  eyes  Hashed,  another  hand  had  taken  his 
letter. 

But  he  was  happy  in  the  thought  that  she  under- 
stood him. 

She  blushed  crimson  as  she  saw  him. 

They  were  in  the  street  again,  the  crowd  dispersed 
in  every  direction.  Gunzer  was  triumphant,  the  trophy 
was  his,  he  held  the  note  in  his  hand. 

He  hurried  home,  and  tore  it  open  with  trembling 
fingerib 


^..X&.'&b,.a/^L..^..>„^tK&-^...    —    ■^^^-.A^..     '-„ja.^.y.    .i  JjC^it-.^  ^,  .^aJ?^J>^»  -  ."^  ■  -  „<:.u.l.-. .  >"    -J-^   . -■>.    JX  .  .     ..    _       1  *■*!  *"     f  "^'^^S^ilH-'^ '' 1  1  1  *•  il  iTl~     1    i'li  i'"     iiiilr' '"i^iMll  lill"l"Mfi>ttTil)l 


T««^_^«?wj^«p»^ppsr'Sfi5i^fK^jjr^!<^ 


UO4 


A    ROYAL    ROBBER 


He  had  not  been  mistaken.      It  was  a  declaration  of 

love  in  the  form  of  a  poem. 

His  head  burned.      Had  it  gone  so  far  already? 

There  must  be  no  time  lost  on  his  part,  if  the  young 
girl's  hand,  together  with  her  fine  fortune,  was  not  to 
be  lost  to  him.  He  must  knov/  where  he  was. 
But  how  should  he  do  this? 

His  position  gave  him  admittance  to  the  Syndiciis' 
liouse  at  any  hour.  Suppose  he  should  use  the  poem 
himself? 

It  was  §0  fiery,  so  glowing,  as  passionate  as  it  wns 
beautifub  But  it  mast  be  done  quickl}',  before  the 
young  girl  could  pos3il)ly  learn  tlie  true  author. 

An-J  could  there  be  a  better  time  to  take  Alma  nnvd 
lier  moliier  by  surprise  than  now  while  the  Syndicus 
Avas  awav. 

"Fi)rtune  favors  the  brave!"  exclaimed  Giinzer,  and 
sat  down  to  co])y  tlie  poem  as  well  as  he  could. 

He  su'xeedc'd  admirably. 

But  how  his  h'jort  beat  when,  in  the  afternoon,  he 
hanled  it  to  tii3  lovely  Alma,  and  at  tlie  same  time 
asked  her  mother  for  the  heiress'  hand. 

Should  he,  who  hiimself  possessed  a  good  fortune 
and  wliose  position  in  tlie  governnient  was  one  of  the 
best  and  most  influential,    nhculd  Ivj  sue  in  vain? 

And  3'et!    and  yet  it  wds  so! 

What  he  had  thought  impossible  happened.  Mother 
and  daughter  refused  the  offer,  politely  it  is  true,  but 
*  itli  almc-:':  ^r-riFculine  decision. 


iat.i.,-:gfeifr.-.::»ga«.»;afeaKaaa>iia;tii^ajika^^ 


gjtfmtt  :iglliii^mM!S::2^^^:.^s^ii^ 


^^i^^l3''5^f^p^^p5'np'S^--3^'^?^ -r^  ■   .'-■ 


^  ALMA  205 

Giinzer  coiiIc^  scarcely  control  his  rage  as  he  left  the 
house.  Haired  filled  his  v.diole  souh  Hatred  against 
Frantz,  his  wife  and  daughter ;  hatred  above  all  things, 
bitter,   insatiabde  hatred  towarrls  Hugo,  his  rival. 

And  Giiii^er  swore  revenge  upon  all  the  Frantz 
famih',  revenge  upon  his  fortunate  rival! 


i£^jaa.a:ti»^^r-af.^-^r.igi^^.,»»--5i-^ 


.c~jr-^  "  -'■  .  V'--L  -'    ■.  .*'■  ^v"      ■,.  '•' '-'  -~-        '  ;.■  '.■■        <r^''^-^' ---s  •sr;r'ti;^'*T*™T^ 


CHAPTER  XVIIL 

THE  TRAITORS. 

S}'ndicus  Frantz  still  remained  in  Vienna,  where 
he  sought  to  win  freedom  and  independence  for  his 
native  city,  and  enable  the  important,  indispensable 
stronghold  of  Strassburg  to  be  retained  by  the  German 
empire,  but  without  obtaining  either  frorn  ministers 
or  Emperor  anything  that  met  the  hopes  and  wishes 
of  the  sorely  threatened  city.  To  be  sure  they  talked 
of  sending  an  auxiliary  army  of  forty  thousand  men, 
but  it  was  soon  evident  that  they  were  to  serve  against 
the  Turks,   not  against  the  French. 

Thus,  notwithstanding  the  superhuman  efforts  of  tna 
Syndicus  and  tlie  cry  of  anguish  from  Strassburg, 
nothing  was  done  in  Vienna,  while  Louis  XIV  and 
Louvois  advanced  with  a  boldness  that  has  not  its 
equal  in  history. 

A  new  and  unheard-of  step  ^yas  taken  by  the  French 
government.  They  suddenly  adopted  the  measures 
arranged  in  regard  to  Alsace,  to  Landau,  and  the  dis- 
trict lying  between  that  city  and  Weissenburg.  But 
in  order  to  take  away  from  this  seizure  the  appearance 
of  flagrant  despotism,  and  at  the  same  time  to  repre- 
sent it  as  the   just  consequences  of  the  Westphalian 


'.^•■tiiii4ffr<r^ir^ii?^iiigte'ltii»ii-^ 


^THE    TRAITORS  207 

treaty,  the  decision  of  the  case  was  referred  to  the 
" Chamhres  de  Reunions,"  the  highest  council  in  Brei- 
sach,  and  similar  questions  concerning  Lorraine  and 
Burgundy  were  given  to  the  Parliament  of  Metz.  At 
the  same  time  the  different  nobles  of  the  land  received 
directions  to  prove  their  right  to  their  estates  and 
property  before  French  courts. 

In  vain  city,  country,  and  nobles,  as  a  portion  of  the 
German  Empire  and  totally  independent  of  France, 
protested  against  this  measure.  Louvois  and  his  king 
treated  them  with  contempt  and  violence.  Without 
paying  the  slightest  attention  to  their  petitions,  re- 
monstrances and  protestations,  the  Chambres  de  Re- 
unions placed  the  whole  ecclesiastical  and  civil 
property  of  the  country  under  the  supervision  of 
the  French  government  and,  demanded  that  they 
should  immediately  take  the  oath  of  allegiance  to 
Louis  XIV,  king  of  France,  affix  the  French  coat  of 
arms  to  the  city  gates  and  public  buildings,  and  in  all 
legal  matters,  should  obtain  a  final  decision  from  no 
other  court  than  the  French  one  at  Breisach, 

To  give  this  outrage  the  necessary  show  of  authority, 
the  French  general,  Montclar,  marched  forward,  re- 
ceived the  troops  stationed  in  Alsace  and  established 
large  store-houses  at  various  points.  The  inhabitants 
vainly  refused  to  take  the  oath  of  allegiance.  The 
order  was  executed  with  military  precision;  if  the 
land-owners  made  complaints  to  the  French  minister 
—Louvois  a,n4  Colbert  de  Croissy — they  were  told  that 
'. .      ^        c       ---^■-    "  -  '  ...  -— «^ 


li^^^fiifia^^i^^^StiM^^&^it^^d^  .  .£:... '.v'^ 


^,  St'.  .■^!t.kri^:,„^JitiSjiR^ 


■*€*i*X^      ^^«#*^*^ 


208  ' 


A    ROYAL   ROBIiEU 


their  Injuiries  were  r.o  cabinet  affairs,  but  a  legal- 
inacter,  they  lUiist  not  therefore  turn  to  the  govern- 
jnent  b-it  to  tiie  C'lai^ihrcs  de  Reunions  at  Metz  and 
Breisach  wliich  ih2  glorious  Ixing  Louis  XTV  had  in- 
stituced,  to  prove  to  his  neighbors  that' he  would  do 
110  injustice! 

Syndicus  Frantz  soon  despaired  of  meeting  with 
any  success  in  Vienna.  He  assailed  the  ministers 
with  entrearias,  but  nothing  was  done.  The  bishop 
of  Strassburg  had  in  the  name,  and  by  order  of  the 
Frjucli  ruler,  written  palliating  and  mediating  letters 
anJ  made  the  proposition:  to  order  the  disputed  points 
to  be  settled  by  special  einbassadors  to  a  congress  at 
Frankfort  on  the  Maiiie. 

Vienna,  the  emperor,  all  Germany  -did  nothing, 
while  Fraiice  continued  to  rob  Gcimany  and  her  other 
neighbors  and  acfgrandize  herself. 

The  whole  Duchy  of  Zweibrucken,  at  that  time  a 
posses-ion  of  tlie  Swedish  king,  was  claimed  as  a 
j'reiich  fief.  King  Charles  XI  was  invited  before  the 
Ouiriihres  de  Reunions  and  as  he  did  not  appear,  the 
Di-ichy  was  taken  away  from  h.Im.  It  was  given  to 
the  Count  Palatine  Birkenfeld,  and  this  German 
viince  joyfully  took  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  the 
king  of  France.  The  same  th-ng  was  done  to  the  king 
of  Spain.  He  too,  according  to  preconcerted  plans, 
^^•as  summoned  before  the  Cliaml)rcs  de  Reunions  and 
as  lie  did  not  appear,  was  declared  to  have  forfeited 
the  Principality  of  Chima}',  the  city  of  Cor  try  k  and  the 


^^^^^i&M&M 


i".,'gfea£te¥S^saa.'a:-aa..w, 


THE    TRAITORS  SOQ 

Duch}'  and  fortress  of   Luxemburg,,  whereupon    France 
took  possession  of  all  of  these  cities  b}*  militar}-  force. 

Syndicus  Frantz  trembled  at  this  injustice.  He  re- 
doubled his  efforts  and  staked  everything  on  the  at- 
tainment of  his  mission;  health,  rest,  even  the  favor 
of  the  ministers,  to  whom  his  persistency  became  very 
annoying.  Frantz  persevered  with  the  firmness  and 
tenacity  of  a  true  German  patriot.  He  spoke  with 
glowing  eloquence,  showed  in  the  most  forcible  manner 
how  important  Strassburg  was  to  Germany,  explained 
that  it  was  the  duty  of  the  emperor  to  come  to  the 
assistance  of  his  German  subjects!   .    .    but  all  in  vain! 

At  last  they  decided  to  send  ambassadors  to  the  con- 
gress at  Frankfort.  But  during  this  time  the  enemy 
had  been  active.  Louvois  had  entered  into  negotia- 
tions with  Giinzer  through  the  Bishop  of  Strassburg, 
and  the  clerk  promised  to  secretly  further  Louvois' 
plans  with  the  magistrates  and  people  as  much  as 
possible.  A  hundred  thousand  thalers  were  appropria- 
ted to  bribe  the  members  of  the  government.  He  also 
swore  to  return  to  the  Catholic  church,  and  promised 
his  assistance  in  gaining  to  her  proselytes.  In  return 
for  this,  the  bishop,  in  the  nameof  Louvois,  promised 
him  thirty  thousand  thalers  and — when  Strassburg 
had  become  French  and  the  cathedral  been  given  back 
to  the  Catholic  church,  —  one  of  the  first,  most  lucrative, 
and  influential  positions. 

This  was  certainly  a  pleasant  prospect  for  Gilnzer. 
He    had  long    since    intentionally    striven   for  such  a 

!4     Robber 


La»3;*tai:^.-TWFi*flSl*.-.«»-«,»iJ>T...-<r>'  .—:.,.» J>M«*f  ._     _t.T-W.Sw5.~-' ._.-%**  3 


^^^■''f'^^ft^-^iryyi'^^^'^'^^^^^^il^^ 


2IO  A   ROYAL   ROBBER  ] 

bribe  on  the  part  of  France;  now  it  came,  and  the  fall 
of  Strassburg  was  doubly  welcome  to  him.  With  such 
a  catastrophe  all  his  enemies,  the  German  patriots  and 
Syndicus  Frantz  at  their  head,  must  be  ruined,  to- 
gether with  their  families.  |  ^ 

Once  in  the  hands  of  the  cruel  and  unprincipled  Lou- 
vois,  the}''  were,  if  Giinzer  wished,  irrevocably  lost.       ■ 

The  latter  already  thought  triumphantly,  of  his 
revenge.  But  it  was  still  too  far  away  for  his  hated 
rival.  An  earlier  blow  must  crush  him;  the  more  so 
because  Hugo  belonged  to  the  patriots  and  would  not 
only  render  the  work  of  betraj'al  more  difficult,  but — ■ 
if  his  wooing  of  Alma  and  the  perfidious  use  of  the 
poem  came  to  Hugo's  ears — might  become  personally 
dangerous  to  him.  ' 

Giinzer,  urged  on  b}'  jealous}'  and  hatred,  did  not 
require  much  reflection  to  invent  a  diabolical  plan,  and 
instantly  set  to  work. 

But  if  this  were  to  succeed,  Hugo  must  first  be 
separated  from  his  father,  for  he  must  receive  no 
assistance  from  the  Stettmeister.  This  was  not  so 
difficult  a  task,  for  a  breach  had  long  existed  between 
Hugo  and  old  Herr  Zedletz. 

Hugo,  the  strong,  resolute  youth  whose  heart  beat 
warmly  for  everything  good  and  noble — who  had  edu- 
cated his  mind  bj'  the  study  of  the  classics,  and  the 
grandeur  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans — was  naturally  a 
patriot. 

His  heart    glowed   with   enthusiastic   love    for   his 


...Jr.'  .^adi^^^ji     -  -     «>  .  _    ..i-,..    -, .-  ■■  ■   ..,.  .-,". » .^i;-,^  '1  :^V.&i.;....«L-5!fe.iVkjfc".'-/-."'v:<"l']ij',Ci  .;  ".f^-^i^i^^i^is^i^jiiiili^MSi^lA^^i^  ^aifc.'. 


S!fip?^w^¥Ws|?^??^'^as^^j^^;^p^s^?||5^^p8fe^!Sgs^»^?5S^  ■ 


THE  TRAITORS  211 

native  city  and  the  beautiful  German  Fatherland. 
Louvois'  base  and  insolent  conduct  enraged  the  youth's 
noble  mind,  and  inspired  him  with  the  utmost  con- 
tempt for  Louis  the  "great"  and  his  accomplices. 

The  noble  youth  recognized  his  sacred  duty  and  ful- 
filled it  in  every  act,  especially  by  his  beautiful  and 
vigorous  poems. 

Hugo's  patriotic  poems  made  a  great  impression  in 
those  excited  political  times,  but  the  Stettmeister 
condemned  them  in  the  harshest  and  most  violent 
manner.  Though  old  Herr  Zedletz  was  no  friend  to 
the  French  government,  he  was  a  timid  man,  whom 
fear  of  the  powerful  enemy  rendered  half-hearted  in 
politics  and  action.  And  in  truth,  he  had  companions 
in  timidity  and  fear  in  the  Ammeister  Dominique, 
Dietrich,  and  many  of  the  other  members  of  the 
magistrac3^ 

With  such  totally  different  views  and  characters,  the 
father  and  son  were  soon  at  variance  with  each  other. 
The  old  gentleman  saw  himself,  the  magistrates,  and 
even  the  city  itself,  threatened  and  compromise  by  his 
son's  action,  while  the  son  reproached  the  father  and 
the  city  government  for  destroying  the  public  by  their 
indecision. 

Thus  a  wide  breach  had  arisen  between  father  and 
son  which  Giinzer  in  pursuit  of  his  plan  of  revenge 
now  rendered  impassable.  The  scoundrel,  under  pre- 
tense of  the  warmest  friendship  and  interest  for  the 
welfare  and  honor  of  the   family,    gave  Herr  Zedlitz 


SSs^;^ii»i«i;':isiffifS.^s»SiJ:S2S^--ji^5^^^  :  --"-i- L-:-i..;ra.hS^^  i.^  \j.  • 


■    '    -  -      ,'      -        -.i~   '-  "  >-^*  ,    "    ~ 

212  A   ROVAT,  ROBRKR  ,  I'     . 

his    son's    poetical    love  letter  to  Alma  Frantz  in   the 
original  liantlwriting.  -..^^    . 

Tlie  fatlier  imnjcdiatelx'  recogni-ed  it,  and  enraged  ■ 
at  tliis  love,  called  liis  son  and  there  followed  a  scene, 
althoiigli  at  G;:nzcr"s  entreaties  nothing  was  said  of 
the  poem,  wliich  eniirel}'  separated  fatlier  and  son,  and 
embittered  tliem  the  more,  becanse,  in  the  passionate 
outburst  of  auger  from  two  men  wlio  entertained  such 
different  political  viev;s,  the};  woundcMl  each  other  with 
reckless  severity.  But  this  was  Glinzer's  intention; 
the  first  step  to  the  fulfillment  of  his  revenge  was 
taken. 

The  second  was  to  make  the  magistrates  keep  Syndi- 
cus  Frantz  in  A^ienna.  In  this  too,  the  persuasive  and 
cunning  man  succeeded  by  the  assistance  of  his  party. 
But  he  knevv-  that  tliere  was  no  danger  for  him.  The 
hancis  of  the  Viennese  court  were  tied  by  the  Turks, 
and  all  anxiety  in  behalf  of  Strassburg  wa~.  appeased 
bv  the  false  information  of  the  prince  of  Ffirstenberg. 

But  now  it  was  necessary  to  deal  the  principal  blow. 

The  French  bribes  were  already  in  Giinzer's  hands, 
so  he  had  means  to  farther  his  plans  by  the  potent 
aid  of  gold. 

Alienated  from  his  father's  house,  from  Alma,  who 
during  Herr  Frantz's  absence,  and  in  consequence  of 
Giinzer's  offer,  lived  with  her  m.other  in  almost  nun- 
like seclusion,  hearing  nothing  and  seeing  nothing  in-' 
the  outside  world  —  Hugo  was  more  than  ever  v^rilling 
to  join  other  young  men.     And  strange!    In  a  marvel- 


^^i^^^^^aii^^^^^^: 


THE   TRAITORS  21 3 

ously  short  time  there  were  a  great  manj  who  attracted 
him,  because  they  shared  his  political  opinions. 

Enthusiastic  and  ardent,  as  youth  ever  is,  they  soon 
became  united  by  the  warmest  ties  of  friendship,  and 
formed  a  club  where  they  could  openly  express  their 
opinions. 

How  warmly  the  young  hearts  beat  for  the  good 
cause,  how  they  extolled  their  native  city  and  country! 
With  what  noble  patriotism  the\'  spoke  of  the  wa}"s 
and  means  by  which  Strassburg  might  possibly  be 
saved  from  the  hands  of  Louis  and  Louvois.  A  change 
in  the  magistrates  and  the  introduction  of  a  3'ounger 
element  seemed  to  be  the  most  feasible  plan. 

They  talked  and  wrote  a  great  deal  about  it,  and 
Hugo  Zediitz  who  had  been  nominated  president  of 
the  little  club  was  the  most  eloquent,  open,  and  enthu- 
siastic of  them  all. 

He  did  not  imagine  that  it  was  Herr  Giinzer  who 
had  brought  these  3'oung  people  to  him;  it  did  not  oc- 
cur to  him  that  he  was  caught  in  the  snare  of  his  deadly 
enemy,  to  wliom  every  word  was  sent,  for  Vvhom  every 
document  was  copied;  who  had  already  given  informa- 
tion to  "the  council  of  thirteen."  The  latter  were 
horrified  and  enraged  at  the  traitorous  step  of  the 
thoughtless  youths.  Suppose  it  should  come  to  the 
ears  of  the  Frencli  ambassador,  of  Monsieur  Louvois, 
or  His  Majesty  of  France,  would  not  the  existence  of 
the  little  republic  be  jeopardized? 

Half  of  the  anxious  ones  and  time-servers,  old  Herr 


L^Siiii^,s^^sAMlSS^i^^^i&^^^ii^s^S!^a:^^^mS^^^^SiSi^i^iSS^^^^SM 


™;^^,r™=>»^.V5'.^>;^^^»5^»--»^? 


214 


-•■v^g^-^Sps^n 


J^'^^^SrTl'«^:'Wl^»!pp!^SI7^SS!^' 


A    ROYAL   ROBBER 


■^rs 


Zedlitz  at  their  head,  were  in  despair — Giinzer  had 
not  as  yet  mentioned  the  names  of  the  members  of 
the  club,  but  all  were  beside  themselves  with  rage  and 
horror  when  the  news  that  a  reorganization  of  the 
magistracy  and  the  introduction  of  a  younger  and 
stronger  element  had  been  discussed,  came  to  their 
ears.  Ha!  that  was  high  treason!  it  was  written  in 
the  shworbrief  of  1482  that  "All  alliances  shall  be  pun- 
ished by  banishment,"  and  this  was  a  secret  covenant 
against  the  city  government,  and  one  that  was  laboring 
for  its  fall  and  dissolution.  '     ■' 

So  the  imprisonment  of  the  traitors  was  unani- 
mously determined  upon,  and  if  everything  was  con- 
firmed, sentence  of  banishment  was  pronounced  in  ad- 
vance. 


^^Sifj^-t-'ij^n:'A'-7/-^'!~'.-\~-!:''Ji:, 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

A  TRYING   HOUR. 

Quite  near  the  so  called  "Cat's  tower"  on  the  111, 
which  runs  through  the  city  in  many  streams,  stood 
a  little  house,  at  that  time  called  the  "Crab,"  in  which 
an  old  fisherman  kept  a  tavern.  A  crab  carved  in  wood 
and  painted  red,  and  over  it  the  figure  of  a  man  painted 
in  many  colors,  was  the  sign,  which  no  one  could  in- 
terpret. The  tavern  of  the  Crab  was  used  only  by  com- 
mon people;  such  as  sailors,  fishermen,  workmen  oc- 
cupied on  the  water,  or  in  the  streets,  and  even  these 
did  not  often  visit  it. 

On  the  present  evening  there  were  only  two  men  in 
the  little  room,  whose  walls,  and  ceiling  were  so  black 
from  smoke  and  dirt  that  it  looked  more  like  a  prison 
than  the  parlor  of  an  inn. 

And  indeed  the  old  broken  oil  lamp,  which  burned 
dimly  on  the  table,  was  as  little  suited  to  dispel  this 
illusion  on  the  part  of  a  guest,  as  the  table  itself, 
whose  rude,  wooden  top  bore  hundred  of  names  and 
initials. 

There  was  so  much  dirt  and  earth  on  the  stone-paved 
floor,  that  one  might  easily  have  planted  beets  there. 
Only  the  old  fishing    implements,  which  hung  on  th« 

215 


■!a^.»a».jiw..a^i^«»i^wafefcia:aiiajiffl,Afew^  '-tut-i'''    -    -.^/.i.^.'.j'^i^^T^ ... 


'^^C- 


»5*3Pi--^,'-  "^-^s- 


216 


A  ROYAL  ROBBER 


wail,  and  the  few  cans  and  mugs  standing  upon  the 
worm-eaten  table,  dispelled  the  fancy,  and  brought  one 
back  to  reality. 

There,  on  the  evening  In  question,  sat  two  guests: 
the  little  tailor  Wcnck  and  an  old  constable,  whose 
red,  copper-colored  face  proved  that  he  served  Bac- 
chus, the  noble  god  of  the  vine,  at  least  as  faithfully 
as  the  wise  magistrates  of  the  free  cit}'  of  Strassburg. 

And  it  was  Meister  Wenck  who  had  brought  the 
already  someu'liat  intoxicated  Trombert  here.  A 
strange  report  liad  been  spreail  tlirough  the  city  that 
evening.  The\  spoke  ot  the  sudden  arrest  of  Giinzer; 
but  the  affair  was  so  mysterious  that  no  one  could  un- 
derstand whether   it  was  founded  on  fact  or  not. 

That  this  report  interested  the  little  tailor  very  much 
was  only  natural.  He  asked  and  spied  about,  but  had 
not  learned  anything  definite  when  he  met  Trombert 
near  the  "Cats'   tower."  ' 

Wenck  knevv'  that  the  constable  had  alread}'  taken 
more  than  sufficient  to  quench  his  thirst,  for  he  was 
w^ell  acqiiainted  with  him.  as  they  had  served  in  the 
sanur  regiment.  "Who  knows  what  good  it  may  do!" 
thoiight  ihe  little  tailor,  and   joined   his    old  comrade. 

"Good  evening,  Trombert,"  said  he.  standing  just 
in  front  of  the  servant  of  the  law'  and  Bacchus,  where 
did  you  coroo  from?" 

"Straight  from  the  Pfalz!" 

"Still  on  business?" 

"I  should  think  soi" 


^»iiia£-X2^;^;ii8a;aaia3lii^^«!Sifciii3ii£i'M^ 


^f-7'1?^/^^r^^^?^^3^  *^^^  " 


-  -  A  TRYING  HOUR  21?:; 

"You  are  an  important  man  in  the  city." 

"May  be  so;  old  Trombert  is  wanted  for  a  good  many 
important  things. " 

"Indeed!"  exclaimed  Meister  Wenck.  "Is  there  any 
truth  in  that  report?" 

"What  report?" 

"Well  .   .   .   they  say — it  is  whispered — " 

"What?" 

"That  Herr  Gtlnzer  has  been  arrested!" 

"Herr  Gunzer!  "  exclaimed  Trombert,  bursting  into 
a  hearty  laugh,  "gossips  always  have  to  invent  and 
chatter.  Herr  Gfinzer  in  prison!"  and  he  laughed 
again,   till  the  air  resounded  with  the  shout. 

"But  there  must  be  something- 

"Yes !  something,  something!"  said  Trombert  mys- 
teriously, "but  we  don't  tie  that  on  the  jackanapes' 
noses!" 

The  tailor  listened  in  astonishment;  there  must  be 
something  going  on. 

"You  are  right,  Trombert!"  said  he,  "what  is  the  use 
of  letting  foolis^i  people  know  everything.  I  laughed 
at  them  too.  Let  the  fools  gossip  and  put  their  heads 
together'      I  go  and  drink  my  can  of  Vv^ine!" 

"Indeed?"  said  the  constable,  who  had  the  pecu- 
liarity not  only  of  being  glad  to  serve  Bacchus,  but  if 
possible  to  do  so  at  another's  expense. 

"Will  you  be  my  guest,  Trombert?"    W'enck  asked. 

"I  don't  care  iTl  do!  if  it  won't  take  more  than  an 
hour." 


d&£CS\_A,^^mf_«»£^; 


:.'iSL';^.^Mdj-.^^^^^^s^^^s^^i^^:j^^&-iei^^ 


-:»^.'  :wr!*5f,<r"«'T?BSf'wj:«^!5i»?ff5yrg^^ 


2l8  A    ROYAT,    ROBBER 

"Not  half  an  hour,"  said  the  tailor,  "we  will  step 
into  the 'Crab'  here!" 

"Into  the  pig  pen?" 

"Hush,  Trombert,  there  is  some  excellent  wine  in 
the  dirty  hole.      And  then  we  should  have  to  go  so  far. " 

"Well  then,  Meister  Wendf,  I  follow  you,"  replied 
Trombert,  smacking  his  lip. 

But  Wenck  had  still  another  reason.  He  knew  that 
here  he  should  be  alone  and  over  the  wine  could  draw 
out  the  old  man's  secret.  They  were  sitting  over  the 
second  can,  when  made  talkative  b};  the  liquor  and 
the  shrewd  cross-questioning  of  the  little  tailor,  Trom- 
bert, under  the  seal  of  the  greatest  secrecy,  at  last  so 
far  exposed  his  secret  to  his  old  comrade  that  Wenck 
learned  with  horror  that:  "A  conspiracy,  against  the 
government  had  been  discovered  —at  the  head  of  which 
was  young  Zedlitz — that  in  an  hour  the  traitors  were 
to  be  taken  unawares  in  their  club  room,  delivered  up 
to  the  magistrates,  and  punished  for  high  treason." 

Wenck  trembled  with  horror.  Young  Zedlitz,  the 
author  of  the  beautiful  poems,  whom  he  and  all  Strass- 
burg  honored — this  noble,  young  man  arrested!  he, 
one  of  the  most  decided  patriots,  a  traitor  to  the 
government,   guilty  of  high  treason! 

No  it  was  impossible!  But  might  not  the  error  pre- 
vail?    Would  it  not  be  well  to  warn  the  young  man? 

"Yes,  who  knows  what  good  it  may  do!"  thought 
Wenck,  ordered  another  can  of  wine,  told  Trombert  to 
drink  it  quietly  at  his  expense  and  went  off,  pleading 
weariness.  I. 


ii#Hii>--t"--^-'^'V-"'i'yN^^Mfe?i'- '•■'-;  ^  ii  --irr-i.i?:fM  ■i-'-''-r-   ^r:ii'i^-ntimfm^e.s-V'r:'%-]MHi^^^^^^^ 


A    TRYING    HOUR  219 

But  Meister  Wenck  had  scarcely  left  the  "Crab" 
when  he  hastened  as  quickly  as  possible  to  the  Zedlitz 
houfee.  Since  his  last  quarrel  with  his  father,  Hugo 
had  lived  in  a  room  in  the  back  building,  entirely 
alone.  Wenck  soon  reached  the  house,  and  hurried 
up  the  little  staircase  with  a  beating  heart.  Hugo 
was  still  sitting  over  his  books  and  papers. 

The  information  was  quickly  given.  Hugo  turned 
pale.  He  was  he  a  traitor  to  his  city?  he,  who 
had  such  honest  intentions  towards  her,  who  only 
thought  of  her  welfare,  her  happy  future? 

Wenck  urged  him  to  take  a  hasty  flight;  but  the 
youth,  in  the  full  consciousness  of  his  innocence,  re- 
jected the  proposition  with  noble  pride. 

"No,"  cried  he  boldly,  raising  his  handsome  head, 
"that  would  be  cowardice!  that  would  be  acknowledg- 
ing myself  guilty  where  I  am  perfectly  innocent." 

"But  reflect  that  calumny  may  be  at  work  here, "  an- 
swered Wenck  anxiously. 

"Then  my  honor  demands  that  I  refute  it." 

"You  have  a  number  of  enemies  in  the  magistracy, 
sir!" 

"That  is  true,  and  unfortunately  my  father  is  among 
them!" 

"My  God!      Be  wise    and    prudent,  sir,  appearances 
are  against  you." 
'     "How  so!" 

"I,  at  least,  cannot  think  otherwise:  you  have  de- 
cided upon  a  total    reorganization  of  the  magistracy. " 


-N    s 


'  ^sf      'wr'W  n  -?*  J'T^^'9^'^''^'''^SW'?''^=^^9!'^S^^^ 


220 


A  ROYAL  ROBBER 


Hdgo  smiled. 

"T)o  }f)u  impute  to  me — or  to  our  little  club,  such  a 
foolish  act?      What  could  we  young  people  do?" 

"But  for  this  very  reason — "  '      V' 

"Wc  only  talked  about  the  matter,  discussed  It." 

"Then  you   are  all  lost."  '  :  ■-i^*^ 

How  so?  -■  ! 

"Because  they  will  interpret  every  innocent  word  as 
treason."  '  '     i- 

Hugo  bec^ime  inoie  serious. 

"Herr  von  Zedlitz!"  cried  the  little  tailor,  looking 
imploringly  at  the  young  man,  "}'ou  knovv*  I  am  your 
friend,   that  I  am  a  patriot  and  am   not  a  coward!" 

"I  know  itj  my   dear  Wenck!"  I         .   --". 

"Well  then,  take  my  advice"  ,:  /';: 

"And  that  is?'^'  "      '^^ 

"Follow  me  to  my  house  without  delay."  "    . 

"Flight  .    .   .    no!"  - 

"You  shall  not  flee.  " 

"What  then?"  ^ -- 

"OrAv  conceal  yo!;rseif  for  a  few  days,  till  we  know 
how  the  magistrates  take  the  matter  .  .  .  whether  they 
consider  it  high   treason."  "  . 

"Tha.t  they  cannot  do."  _ 

"Oil!  '  cried  the  littie  tailor  in  despair.  "If  the 
worth)'  S}  n.Ciicus  Frantz  were  only  here.  But  as  it  is, 
the  part}'  of  patriots  have  neither  head  nor  support. 
The}'  will  succumb  io  GCinzer  a-ul  his  adlierents!" 

Hugo  starte.!:  the  nauhe  of  Frantz  and  Giinzer  had 
awakened  an  unexpected  train  of  thought 


filfif'ili^'S&'n 


iks^i>-i^i:::iijtiji.i£&&&£L..,s,re4f,^ 


M^xi^e^'i^ii^^^ 


??f^^y,f»^'i~m^^WKm*^f^~r^^'  • 


•i       ;::—  '  -'  A    TRYING    HOUR  221 

"Conceal  yourself  with  me  if  only  for  t»vo  or  three 
days!"  repeated  the  tailor  urgently.  "Reflect,  who 
knows  wliat  good  it  may' do!" 

"Very  Vvcii!  I  will  follow }our  advice,  Meister  Wenck. 
But  only  for  a  fev/  days,  till  we  know!" 

"God.  be  praised, "  cried  the  delighted  tailor.  "And 
now  there  is  not  a  momeijt  to  lose.  Throw  a  cloak 
around  you,  take  an  old  cap,  and  follow  me  through 
the  side  streets. " 

The  youth  did  as  the  worthy  tailor  advised,  and  a 
few  moments  later  the)'  left   the  Zediitz  m.ansion. 

Two  days  had  elapsed.  Hugo  was  awaiting  the  little 
tailor''s  return  in  a  small  rooin  vchich  Wenck  had  pre- 
pared for  his  reception.  The  latter  had  gone  into  the 
cit}'  to  learn  how  matters  stood  v/ith  Hugo  and  his 
friends.  The  sentence  \vas  to  be  given  to-da}',  the 
proofs  lay  before  them,  and  the  magistrates  wished  to 
give  a  quick  and  decided  proof  that  e\'ery  conspiracy 
against  France  was  disapproved,  and  at  the  same  time 
to  set  forth  an  example  that  the  government  was  strong 
enough  to  strike  down  its  enemies  at  home. 
.    Hugo  had  already  waited  three  hours. 

The  door  opened  and  Wenck  entered,  looking  deadly- 
pale. 

"Lost!"  cried  Hugo,  starting  up. 

"Lost!"  replied  Wenck,  almost  voiceless  with  emo- 
tion.     "Oh!    unhappy    v/orld!     the     true    and    honest 
friends  of  our  native  land  are  banished,   and  the  trait- 
ors sit  triumphant  at  the  head  of  the  government.  ' 
-*-_        ■  •  .  ^  .     , .     .         .       .         >         .      .       * .     ---»_. 


!^'^s*^^'^''^ji?Npwf!'i^!n'4i'»?«''w|»aH^^  -^  ^^^^ 


111  A    ROYAL   ROBBER  i 

'Explain,  Wenck,  explain!" 

"The  sentence  is  strange.     I  cannot  understand  it.^, 

"How  so?" 

"All  the  members,  with  the  exception  of  the  presi- 
dent—" 

"There  were  only  six." 

-  "Are  set  at  liberty  at  the  pressing  intercession  of 
Herr  Giinzer;  but  Hugo  von  Zedlitz,  the  presi- 
dent, is  convicted  of  rousing  ill-will  towards  France 
and  stirring  up  the  people  against  the  magistrates  of 
the  city—" 

"Well?" 

"And,  as  a  traitor,  banished  from  her  precincts  for- 
ever. " 

"Impossible,"  cried  Hugo  almost  beside  himself. 
"Strassburg  cannot  so  shamefully  expel  her  most  faith- 
ful son!" 

"And  yet  she  does  it!"  answered  ^Wenck,  forcing 
back  his  tears. 

"But  that  is  all  a  lie,"  cried  Hugo.  "Who  has  stirred 
up  the  people  to  rebel?  And  did  not  the  others  do 
exactly  the  same  as  I?  did  they  not  speak  even  more 
boldly,  so  that  it  was  often  I  who  counseled  modera- 
tion." 

"They  all  swore  the  contrary,  and  denounced  Hugo 
von  Zedlitz  as  their  leader!" 

"They  did  that?" 

"Swore  it." 

A  long,  deep  silence  followed.  Hugo  stood  as  if  pet' 
rified. 


3.--.- V-i  .aj^^-fT^:^uJiii 


-^^m^W^'f^'^K^  --    ,.i-;^ -;:r'^~'.^     ,;:..'; -.:r.^:- .  -       -  ■;^    ,     ■,  /■>■  .■,^5^ 


A    TRYING   HOUR  223 

At  last  life  seemed  to  return  to  him.  He  quietly 
and  calmly  held  out  his  hand  to  Wenck,  and  said:  "I 
will  go.  Invent  some  way  to  get  me  off  secretly  to- 
night. I  can  remain  here  no  longer.  May  God  forgive 
my  enemies  what  they  have  done  to  me. " 

"Go,  dear  sir!"  said  Wenck,  and  he  could  no  longer 
restrain  the  tears  that  flowed  down  his  cheeks.  "Go! 
leave  your  unhappy  and  ungrateful  city,  at  least  for 
a  time.  Submit  to  the  inevitable.  Who  knows  what 
good  it  may  do!  Surely  your  innocence  will  be  made 
known,  and  then  .  .  .  then  you  will  come  back  justi- 
fied." 

'I  will  go,"  repeated  Hugo  gravely,  "but  you  must 
do  me  one  more  favor." 

"You  need  money!     The  little  I  have  saved — " 

"Not  that,"  answered  Hugo  with  deep  emotion. 
"When  I  left  my  room  with  you  day  before  yesterday, 
I  hastily  put  in  my  pocket  as  much  as  I  shall  need  for 
the  present.  I  shall  meet  relatives  in  Mannheim  and 
then but  to  the  matter  in  hand." 

"What  is  that?" 

"Try  to  speak  to  Syndicus  Frantz's  daughter  imme- 
diately." 

"The  lovely  Alma?" 

Hugo  nodded — "but  secretly." 

"And  then?" 

"Tell  her  what  has  happened — that  I  am  innocent 
tell  her  what  you  know." 

"Willingly,  dear  sir,  right  willingly." 


^a^'ig^Ji^a^^^^mMTi-fiiisr iriia    i 


224  A    ROYAL    ROBBER 

'And  implore  her,  by  all  that  is  dear  and  sacred,  to 
give  me  a  quarter  of  an  hour  in  secret  before  my  de- 
parture." 

"I  will  go  immediately.  I  already  have  an  errand 
to  the  house.  I  must  speak  to  Frau  Frantz — there 
are  some  things  on  my  heart  about  which  she  must 
write  to  her  husband.  Who  knows  what  good  it  may 
do!" 

"Then  you  will — " 

"I'll  go  at  once." 

That  same  evening — while  Frau  Hedwig  sat  in  her 
parlor  writing  to  her  husband  about  the  important  dis- 
closures Meister  Wenck  had  made,  and  the  exciting 
incident  aboiit  Hugo  Zedlitz — Hugo  saw  his  beloved. 
At  first  conscientious  and  maidenly  scruples  had  op- 
posed the  step,  but  the  power  of  the  moment,  the 
might  of  love  and  despair,  which  seized  upon  her, 
soon  conquered.  , 

Under  the  pretense  of  going  to  the  evening  service, 
she  followed  Wenck  to  his  house,  where  she  met  Hugo, 
whom  she  had  long  loved  in  silence.  , 


^^rWiSaitftfi^rtraiiMiai]^  ^-^  '-■■'■--^  '--^^j.-^-  ■^i£M;.2SS&. 


.    '^       1 


VOLUME  IL 


POLITICS  AND  PASSION. 

CHAPTER  I. 

THE  MASQUERADE. 

Following  the  banks  of  the  Loire  and  Indre  fr^m 
Tours,  we  reach  the  beautiful  spot  which  is  rightly 
called  the  "Garden  of  France,"  and  which  is  crowned 
by  the  famous — or  rather  infamous — Castle  Loches, 
about  whose  gloomy  walls,  battlements,  and  bulwarks 
the.  ghost,  of  Louis  XI  and  his  hangmen  still  seem 
to  hover. 

It  rises  on  a  hill  overlooking  the  town  of  Loches. 
From  the  tower  the  eye  roves  with  delight  over  broad 
meadows  and  pastures,  which  resemble  a  beautiful, 
green  carpet  traversed  by  the  silver  thread  of  the 
Indre,  and  bounded  by  the  dark  border  of  dense 
woods.  The  foundation  of  Castle  Loches  must  have 
been  laid  in  the  early  times  of  the  French  monarchy, 
as  is  proved  by  its  style  of  architecture. 

The  castle  itself  has  since  been  surrounded  by  mas- 


^^^^S&iSi^^l^^i<C^i^i£^££jiSs^£ySSss^M,^<^tti>,iyi^  '.  ;TZiiivs;^S^^^ii^!SiL-4S!^ijmii^^il^.^ie^^&^iM . 


-i^ms^s^^^^^^^W^Wi^T^- 


226  A  ROYAL   ROBBER 


^■^  —  '^'Ty^^.  L'?7^>~^s 


'I- 


sive  walls,  and  crowned  with  battlements.  Outside 
of  these  are  moats  and  dikes,  flanked  by  round  towers 
provided  with  cannon.  The  principal  gate  was  also 
protected  by  four  towers  and  a  drawbridge  , beyond 
-which  were  a  second  and  third  gate,  both  provided 
with  huge  portcullises — to  oppose  the  steps  of  the  bold 
intruder.  I 

But  the  most  interesting  part  of    the  castle  was  the 
donjon,  a  high,  square  building,  which  overtopped  the 
whole  for<"ress  like  a  tower.      It    is    difficult  to  fix  the 
epoch  at  which  this  part  of  the  castle  was  built.    The 
donjon  of  Loches  rises  a  hundred  and  twenty  feet  about  . 
the  summit  of  the  hill.     It    can    be    divided  into  two 
pa^ts,  namely,  the  chief  tower,  which  forms  an  oblong 
square  of  about  one    hundred  feet    long  by  thirty  feet 
wide,  and  a  second  tower,  similar    in    appearance  but 
much  smaller,  and  which   apparently  only  served  as  a 
species  of  outpost  to  the  first.     Passing  into  this  little 
tower,  we  see  the  vestiges  of  a  stair-case,  whose  steps 
rested  upon  a  double  wall  in  which  arched  vaults  had 
been  made.     This    staircase,    which    was    lighted    by 
numberless  small    windows,    ended    in    the    form  of  a 
tunnel^  at  a  door  which  opened    into    the  first  story  of 
the  great  donjon,  and  also    served  as  an  entrance  to  a 
very  large  apartment,  whose  paved  door  "ested  upon  a 
stone  arch.     In  the  second  story  was  a  chapel  with  an 
altar  on  the  eastern  side,  and  over  this  chapel  was  still 
another  story. 
The  Castle  of  Loches  was  one  of  the  most  formida- 


MiiiVi'fai^^mr'iiiilffir''iS'«Ti^i-'^n^ 


it^?5^r*i?**^Si-  "  iS.--  ?■  f  i.-'" '.-  ^^^^\?^7^^y^T^''*^yf!p*^^ 


~ -'"":-:■'''_-'  THE    MASQUERADE  '  227 

ble  fortresses  in  France.  Such  fortresses  were  of  im- 
portance in  times  when  kings,  as  well  as  great  and 
small  feudal  lords,  always  had  something  to  do  to  de- 
fend themselves,  either  against  foreign  invasions,  or 
the  aggressions  of  neighboiing  Seigneurs,  who  in  the 
absence  of  the  English,  found  time  to  quarrel  with 
each  other,  in  order  to  satisfy  their  hatred  and  love  of 
plunder. 

The  beauties  of  the  country,  and  the  great  forest  full 
of  deer  had  also  attracted  French  kings  to  Loches. 
Saint  Louis,  Philip  the  Fair,  John  11,  and  Louis  XI 
spent  a  great  part  of  their  lives  here. 

Louis  XIV  too  had  come  here.  The  now  omnipo- 
tent Duchesse  de  Fontanges  had  grown  weary  of  V^er- 
sailles.  The  bewitchingly  beautiful  marble  statue — 
as  she  was  called  at  court  from  her  outward  appear- 
ance— was  well  known  there,  and  therefore  her  un- 
bounded vanity  no  longer  found  the  nourishment  it 
desired.  The  king's  charming  mistress,  whom  even  the 
endless  flatteries  of  the  court  no  longer  satisfied  wanted 
new  admirers.  The  sun  of  beauty  glittered  in  Paris 
and  Versailles,  Marly  and  St.  Germain,  in  the  zenith 
of  her  power  and  splendor  but  the  rest  of  France  must 
also  admire  her  and  sink  adoringly  at  her  feet.  For 
this  reason,  she  had  persuaded  the  king  to  visit  W'ith 
her  and  the  whole  court,  Orleans  Belois,  Tours,  An- 
gers and  Nantes,  so  on  his  return  Louis  had  stopped 
at  Loches,  and  on  account  of  the  splendid  hunting,  es- 
tablished himself  and  court  in  the  castle  for  a  long  stay. 


>^iS!£.j^3-_Ti>r   —    "■»^- .^■i^^^.-g^.Saaev.«a^^.*--*.*SS«a;,,%Sa,fJ^  1-,)?^  -    --|tMi|fa!tf>''^««>''^*Sff^taA^a..^. 


228  A   ROYAL   ROBBER' 


^'5- 


This  stay  was  not  exactly  agreeable  to  the  lovely 
Marie.  What  should  she  do  at  lonely  Loches?  Here 
there  was  little  to  be  dazzled.  The  city  and  vicinity 
were  soon  seen,  but  the  nobles  were  not  numerous, 
and  at  the  same  time  less  smooth  and  flattering  than 
those  of  the  court;  nay,  when  the  latter,  accustomed 
to  see  the  king  constantly  languishing  in  the  chains 
of  a  mistress,  honored  Angeline  de  Fontanges  almost 
more  than  the  queen,  the  ruder  but  less  corrupt  no- 
bility of  the  country  often  held  back  coolly  with  for- 
bidding reserve. 

Of  course  the  king  gave  festival  upon  festival  In 
honor  of  his  beautiful  mistress;  hunts,  plays,  theatri- 
cal representations  and  rural  balls,  at  which  he  re- 
joiced to  see  Angeline  shine;  but  to  her  the  old  fort- 
ress seemed  empty  and  deserted.  Fear  and  anxiety 
often  took  possession  of  her  in  the  spacious,  dreary 
rooms,  whose  gloomy  magnificence  was  actuall}'  repel- 
lant.  Were  there  not  legends  of  many  horrors  which 
had  been  perpetrated  within  these  walls;  of  spirits 
and  ghosts  that  till  appeared  in  the  old  towers  and 
rooms.  ! 

It  was  fortunate  that  Angeline,  in  addition  to  her 
royal  lover,  had  so  gay  a  friend  in  the  Due  de  St.  Aig- 
nan.  Here  in  gloomy  Loches  he  was  doubly  welcome 
witli  his  thousand  and  one  stories  and  anecdotes,  his 
wit  and  unfailing  cheerfulness.  In  unguarded  mo- 
ments something  still  stirred  in  Angeline's  breast  that 
would  xiPt  harmonize    with  the  happy    life  she  appar- 


rt;W-l^iriinifiilifemiili1ffHii^^ 


SS?''w»ispw 


J  THE    MASQUERADE  229 

ently  led.  It  was  the  voice  of  conscience,  which 
awoke  in  her,  and  though  often  stilled,  awoke  again 
and  again,  especially  when,  in  dreams  or  waking  hours, 
the  images  of  her  good  mother,  her  faithful  old 
teacher,  Pere  Hilaire,  or-  even  the  bloody  ghost  of 
Gauthier  rose  before  her  mind. 

She  could  not  forget  Gauthier's  frightful  death, 
which  she  only  heard  of  long  after  it  occurred;  she 
drowned  herself  in  the  waves  of  intoxicating  pleasure, 
threw  herself  into  the  arms  of  frivolit}',  and  deadened 
remorse  by  the  proud  feeling  of  satiated  vanity,  the  love 
of  a  king,  and  the  splendor  and  grandeur  of  a  princess. 

And  these  terrible  thoughts,  these  horrible  visions, 
recurred  to  Angeline  more  than  ever  in  the  dismal 
stronghold  of  Loches. 

Gladly  would  she  have  left  it:  but  the  king  enjoyed 
hunting  in  the  neighboring  woods  so  much,  that  she 
did  not  dare  to  urge  his  return  to  Versailles  so  quickh^ 
particularly  as  she  herself  had  been  the  cause  of  his 
leaving  it. 

.To-day  a  masquerade  had  been  arranged.  The  thought 
had  pleased  Louis  XIV,  inasmuch  as  being  away  from 
Paris  and  Versailles,  he  could  on  such  occasions  lay 
aside  all  ceremon}'.  Perhaps  the  men n rob  had  still 
other  things  in  view. 

He  willingly  agreed  to  the  desire  of  his  lovely  fav- 
orite, with  the  sole  condition; — that  the  country  no- 
bility, and  the  well  to  do  inhabitants  of  the  city  of 
Loches,  should  take  a  part  in  it. 


-:-'i:iyTsgi.'^_^-^^^^f^^^^:r,;:^-^^i^^^.^  ,--_.■    -.----;■    .    ..V ■;■>-.-: ■•■'--^■^^|gp^;«SS^ 


230  ;^  A   ROYAL  ROBBER         1^         y 

In  order  not  to  resign  any  of  his  royal  dignity,  the 
invitations  were  given  In  the  name  of  the  Duchesse 
de  Fontanges,  His  Majesty  (so  said  report)  would  not 
attend  the  festival.  I    '  ^ 

The  evening  approached.  Two  of  the  immense  old 
halls  were  prepared  to  receive  the  disguised  and 
masked  company.  One  was  panneled  from  floor  to 
ceiling  with  wood,  upon  which  was  carved  the  staff  of 
Bacchus  wreathed  with  vine  garlands,  and  other  de- 
signs, all  glittering  with  gilding.  On  the  ceiling  were 
beams  adorned  with  exquisitely  carved  figures,  and 
upborne  by  winged  devils  with  hideous  faces,  whose 
heads  served  as  cornices  to  support  the  clumsy  mould- 
ings of  this  Gothic  architecture.  The  mantel-pieces 
rested  upon  the  strong  shoulders  of  two  caryatides, 
horrible  monsters,  such  as  the  bizarre  fancy  of  the 
architects  in  the  time  of  Louis  XIV  produced.  Upon 
the  outstretched  tongues  of  these  caryatides,  as  well 
as  on  the  chandeliers,  burned  candles  of  yellow  wax, 
whose  pale  light  feebly  illuminated  the  wide,  dusky 
hall.  i 

The  other  room,  which  was  more  richly  ornamented 
than  the  first  and  panneled  with  black  and  white  mar- 
ble, was  decorated  with  Flanders  carpets  and  rich  cur- 
tains. On  the  walls,  in  place  of  the  wood  carvings, 
hung  large,  finely  embroidered  tapestries.  j 

The  musicians  were  stationed  in  one  of  the  adjoin- 
ing apartments.  '  j         v. 

The  halls  were  now  opened,  and  hundreds  of  masks 


m^isS&-!ii&3,SS<Ai,:i:^'^ii£fisiriii^,^L^ 


~^  .^>*E:i(»°5ay-, 


':■■/:::''',.''■■]  -'~:-r"^,_':     THE    MASQUERADE  '  231 

pressed  in.  The  grotesque,  variegated  costumes  re- 
sembled a  huge  mosaic  of  human  figures  combined  by 
some  magic  spell.  ■ 

All  the  gold,  velvet,  silk  or — with  the  less  wealthy- 
tinsel,  velveteen,  taffeta,  and  other  bright  materials, 
which  taste,  splendor  and  riches  could  offer,  were  lav- 
ished here.  The  crowd  surged  gayly  to  and  fro,  talk- 
ing and  laughing,  and  singing! 

But  the  king  had  not  returned  from  the  chase,  and 
Angeline  would  not  enter  the  hall  before  greeting  her 
royal  lover. 

So  she  sat,  somewhat  out  of  humor  at  the  delay, 
clad  in  the  costume  of  a  Juno,  embroidered  with  gold 
and  precious  stones,  in  one  of  the  old-fashioned  chairs 
of  which  Loches  had  so  many,  and  which  perhaps 
Philip  the  Fair  had  once  occupied. 

Her  suite,  representing  all  the  residents  of  Olympus, 
were  in  the  waiting-room,  one  person  alone  stood,  mask 
in  hand,  a  few  steps  from  her  chair.  It  was  the  Due 
de  St.  Aignan,  to  whom  the  costume  of  Mars  was  as 
becoming  as  that  of  the  queen  of  the  gods  to  Ange- 
line. An  expression  of  winning  courtesy  rested  as 
usual  on  his  handsome  features — a  smile,  that  appar- 
ently sought  to  cheer  his  lovely  companion. 

But  the  Due  did  not  succeed.  Angeline  de  Fontanges 
was  impatient.  The  king  had  not  yet  come,  and  she 
longed  to  be  out  of  the  dreary  vaulted  halls,  which 
were  her  residence  during  her  stay  in  Loches,  and 
away  into  those  in  which  the  music    already  sounded. 


f^-'SST'  ' .  --"^J' -v^^^^snT^sTO^F^P-  ^l««iVS'fi?*PS!''»'''!ti.%!«^''«'« 


23-3  A    ROYAL   ROBBER  ' 

Angel inc  Iiad  hitherto  only  heard  half  of  St.  Aignan*s 
flatteries.  Her  little  hand  toyed  with  the  purple  robe 
;hat  fell  lightly  from  her  beautiful  shoulders,  and  in 
whose  wide  borders  a  quantity  of  precious  stones  were' 
artistically  embroidered.  ; 

"Monsieur  le  Due,"  said  Angeline,  "you  always  have 
plenty  of  stories  and  anecdotes, —I  beg  you  to  tell 
me  one,  I  am  dying  of  ennui  in  this  gloomy  old  rat's 
nest." 

"With  pleasure,  queen  of  heaven  and  beauty,"  re- 
plied St.  Aignan,  bowing,  "and  yet  we  can  still  re- 
main in  the  dreary  old  castle."  ! 

"How  so?"  asked  Angeline  absently. 

"Because  there  was  once  a  festival  held  St  Loches, 
similar  to  the  one  given  here  to-day." 

"Indeed?     you  make    me  curious.     Who    gave  it?" 

"Louis  XI." 

"Tell  me  about  it!" 

St.  Aignan  bowed  and  seated  himself,  then  casting  a 
strange,  ardent  glance  at  Angeline,  said:  "Then  you 
command?" 

"I  entreat!"  she  replied,  while  a  deep  blush  suffused 
her  face  as  he  met  the  Due's  gaze.  There  must  have 
been  some  strange  expression  in  the  glance. 

St.  Aignan  continued:  I 

"You  know  that  Charles  "VII  made  the  Castle  of 
Loches  a  royal  residence.  The  monument  to  the  charm- 
ing Agnes  Sorel,  the  king's  favorite,  still  remains, 
and  is  called  the  *Agnes  tower.'"  i 


I     - .  • 


^f^  •  kTOW?"JlWH|WST'(P^«^?^7^?'^^  ^'-  "^««5^ 


THE   MASQUERADE  233 


"I  know  it!"  answered  the  Duchesse  de  Fontanges. 
"The  canons  of  the  cathedral  of  Loches  sought  at 
different  times  to  gain  permission  to  remove  the 
mausoleum  of  the  beautiful  Agnes  Sorel  from  the  choir 
to  another  part  of  the  church.  His  Majesty  was  speak- 
ing-to  me  about  it  only  yesterday." 

"It  is  so  large  that  it  interfered  with  tlie  service. 
But  none  of  the  king's  predecessors  would  consent, 
until  Louis  XIV  gave  his  permission.  And  the  re- 
moval took  place." 

"But  you  surely  do  not  intend  to  tell  me  about  the 
monument  here  in  Loches?" 

■  "Certainly  not.  I  will  only  dedicate  memories  of 
love  to  the  goddess  of  love  and  b^autyl  "  said  the  Due, 
and  again  he  cast  a  strange  glance  at  Angeline. 

The  jewels  at  which  she  was  gazing  parried  it.  The 
Due  continued:  ' 

"After  the  death  of  Charles  VII,  the  Castle  of  Loches 
still  continued  to  be  a  royal  residence.  But  under 
Louis  XI,  very  few  pleasant  and  cheerful  events  oc- 
curred. Still  he  sometimes  came  here  with  his  whole 
court,  and  then  the  festivals  which  were  celebrated, 
such  as  for  example,  that  of  1465  recalled,  though  in- 
terspersed with  certain  dark  shadows,  the  merry  times 
of  former  rulers. 

"But  never  had  the  bells,  the  tramp  of  souliers,  and 
the  terrible  thunder  of  the  cannon  on  the  castle  walls, 
so  excited  the  people  of  Loches  as  on  the  third  of 
February  in  the  year  1465.      The  good  King  Louis  XI, 


tfferPftWrfe^fertiifeiiiilitMlSii^  K.::ii^ir:e^i^i^^tl.  ■l-kiifii!i^r£&S22 


234  ;  A    ROYAL    ROBBER 

who  awoke  in  a  particularly  pleasant  mood,. called  his 
trusty  valet  Doyat,  and  said  to  him:  'Go  down  to 
my  burghers  and  peasants,  and  announce  to  them  my 
will  which  is:  that  every  one  shall  enjoy  himself  to- 
day as  much  as  he  can. '  This  was  more  than  was  nec- 
essary to  put  a  people  thirsty  for  enjoyment  into  mo- 
tion. There  was  a  cry,  a  shout  of  rejoicing,  that  al- 
most shook  the  vaults  of  heaven,  and  exulting  and 
cheering,  they  set  to  work  without  loss  of  time.  They 
brought  out  their  money-boxes  and  took  the  savings 
of  a  whole  year  now  that  carnival  had  come  for 
once,  and  what  was  seldom  enough  under  Louis  XI,  a 
time  for  rejoicing,  it  must  be  celebrated  with  baccha- 
nalian revels,  masks,  and  mysteries.  Rich  and  poor, 
nobles  and  peasants,  troubadours  and  scholars,  vied 
with  each  other  in  obeying  the  king's  command."  ; 

"And  that  took  place  here,  and  under  the  gloomy 
Louis  XI?"  asked  Angeline  in  astonishment. 
-  "Yes,"  replied  St.  Aignan,  "does  it  surprise  you,  fair 
lady?  Have  we  not  a  similar  festival  to-day,  and  does 
not  the  grave  Louis  XIV,  who  is  so  jealous  of  his 
royal  dignity,  give  it?"  t 

"At  my  request!"  said  the  Duchesse,  "and  the  king 
will  not  be  present."  1 

'Who  can  be  sure  of  that?"  said  St.  Aignan.   "Per- 
haps Louis  XI  told  the  charming  Countess  de  Sassen- 
ages,  the  beloved  of  his  heart,  the  same  thing."        ; 
The  duchesse  listened  eagerly.  ' 

"Tell  me  more,"  she  entreated,  but  her  hand  let  the 


f^Sg«ST?S^=^?5»i°=^J^^^-"»K^«2P''!v='?^  ^  ■■  "^i 


"-    '  THE    MASQUERADE  235 

purple  robe  fall,  and  her  attention  was  evidently  fixed 
upon  the  narrator.     The  Due  continued: 

"So  the  whole  day  was  passed  in  mummeries,  in 
plays,  pranks,  moral  representations.  In  the  evening 
there  was  to  be  a  ball  at  court,  at  which  the  beauti- 
ful Countess  Elfride  de  Sassenages,  the  influential 
friend  and  favorite  of  the- king,  presided.  But  before 
this  the  following  incident  took  place. 

"The  clock  in  the  castle  tower  had  just  struck  nine. 
Louis  XI  was  lying  comfortably  on  his  long  couch  of 
state,  when  his  trusty  barber  entered  the  room  with  the 
decorated  bowl  and  Spanish  soap. 

"'Come,  hurry,'  said  the  king  sternly,  'I  wish  to 
witness  the  pleasures  of  my  beloved  and  faithful 
people.' 

"The  favorite,  who  was  handling  the  razor,  well 
knew  his  royal  master's  moods,  and  also  the  favorable 
moments  when  he  might  dare  to  ask  a  favor,  so  he 
went  quickly  to  work  to  fulfill  the  duties  of  his  office. 
After  he  had  sufficiently  soaped  the  king's  thin  face, 
he  no  longer  feared  to  be  interrupted  in  his  petitions, 
and  said  timidly: 

"'Sire,  your  majesty  has  already  had  the  goodness 
to  replace  the  nickname  of  Olivier  le  Diable  by  that  of 
Olivier  le  Daim.      Now  if  I  might  venture — ' 

" 'Hm,  hm,'  growled  the  king  again,  shaking  his 
head,  but  he  did  not  dare  to  open  his  lips  for  fear  of 
getting  a  mouthful  of  soap  suds. 

"'If  I  might  venture,'   continued  Olivier  leDaim,    'I 


^i1tiSgf^':fi%-i-'Hirr\r<v1'-ntr-t 


-^^,'-'-'         ''      ■         '    '-':?ff''«»^''^^?'3^r^sipai^«»""ji!'^g»S8'J*«*?^'»^ 


236  •  A  kovAL  roi;ber 

would  beg  your  majesty  to  continue  your  favors  towards 
nie  '  '       ■  i  " 

"Louis  XI  cast  an  angry  glance  at  him.  ' 

"But  Olivier,  without  allowing  himself  to  be  discon- 
certed, seized  His  Majesty's  nose  with  his  left  hand 
and  with  the  right  laid  the  razor  on  the  king's  upper- 
lip,  saying  quietly:  'Sire,  the  Conite  de  Meulan  has 
just  died  without  heirs:    the  title  is  vacant — ' 

"'Plague  take  the  oppressor!'  cried  Louis,  as  he 
freed  himself  from  liis  barber's  hands,  'will  you  stop 
tormenting  me?'  '\ 

"'The  lands  of  Meulan  are  without  an}'  owner,  re- 
peated Olivier  le  Diiim,  while  he  put  the  razor  to  the 
royal  throat;  'they  would  surely  be  in  proper  hands  if 
they  came  into  the  possession  of  a  person  who  stands 
in  such  close  relation  to  your  Majesty,  and  into  whose 
care  the  most  precious  thing  is  daily  intrusted,  name- 
ly, this  illustrious  head." 

"These  words  made  tlie  king  tremble;  the  barber 
noticed  it,  and  passed  tlie  razor  over  the  king's  face 
as  he  continued:  'Sire,  I  dare  to  give  the  striking 
proof  of  being  the  most  trusty  subject  of  France  in  the 
service  of  your  majesty.  To  prove  this  to  you  I  am 
ready  at  any  moment  to  sacrifice  my  life;  but  as  a  re- 
ward for  my  faithfulness  and  devotion  I  must  humbly 
entreat  your  majesty  to  grant  the  favor  I  have  just 
asked.' 

"The  king's  chin  was  smooth,  and  the  barber  threw 

Jiimseif  at   Plis  Majesty's  feet.  -. 

"  .  ■  ■     -  '  !  . 


ibiiii:^:,:^^:^  lip,-|jj«4jrfi(aSa^i:^aii,s^  i;  ~a^^v..-£aa  v..:Sa..i.>:...^.aig^^».a;^i;,aife^iaaaft^ 


THE    MASQUERADE  237 

"Louis  XI  stood  before  the  crafty  and  audacious 
barber  with  flashing  eyes,  and  exclaimed: 

"'What  does  tliis  mean,  you  r?sca!  5'ou  deserve 
as  punishment  for  this  presumption,  to  be  given  over 
to  my  godfather  Tristan  and  caressed  by  mj' little  god- 
daughter!''' But  no,  rascal,  I  -vvill  not  do  that,  for  I 
need  your  services.    So,  I  make  you  Comte  de  Meulan. ' 

"'I  most  humbly  thank  you,  Sire.' 

'"Yes,  but  I  have  one  condition™' 

"'Speak,  Sire,   I  am  your  most  obedient  servant.' 

"'You  are  no  longer  the  subject  of  conversation.' 

'"Who  then?' 

"'Listen,  knave,  come  here!  you  know  the  pretty 
peasant  maiden  who  lives  at  Jacobs  gate?' 

"'With  the  beautiful,  blue  eyes,  noble  bearing,  and 
little  velvet  hands?' 

"  'The  very  one. ' 

"'It  is  sufficient,  Sire;  I  understand    your  Majest}'.* 

"  'See  that  vou  do  not  act  on  your  owm  account,  3'ou 
rascal!' 

"'Oh!  Sire,  I  am  too  well  taugh  to  take  precedence 
of  my  master.' 

"'What  do  you  sa}^?'  cried  Louis  XI,  as  he  looked 
sharply  at  him. 

"'I  repeat  my  eternal  devotion  to  j^our  Majesty.' 

"'One  word  more,  fool  of  a  count!  You  will  see 
that  the  halls  and  large   galleries  are  arranged  for  to- 

*  To  be  tortured  by  my  executioners.  Louis  XI  in  his  royal  gibberish  called 
the  executors  of  his  revenge  "My  little  god-daughter  little  darling,"  etc.. 


i«ljjt»to»^.a.-aA>^Ja,.--.;ta»ri'a^a^:v.vjj&.^ja;:A^aiaa.Kae»  ;■'  r'-'i'il'rrT'-'illt-' 


238  A    ROYAL    ROBBER       .    '  --.       t  V    - 

night's  ball;    Madame    de    Sassenages    and  the  whole 

court  will  dance  there  this  evening.'  I. 

'"Very  well,  Sire.'  i 

"'That  is  not  all.  Do  not  forget  to  bring  the  young 
girl,  whom  I  entrust  to  your  care,  here  in  disguise.  Go 
now.  and  fulfill  your  duties  well  and  quickly.'  '      :  -    : 

"Olivier  le  Daim  bowed  almost  to  the  ground,  and 
retired. 

"The  evening  began  with  dancing  and  play;  free 
conversation,  and  merry  questions    and  answers,  were  - 

bandied  to  and  fro;  people  crowded  and  jostled  each 
other,  and  the  gay  throng  wandered  from  hall  to  hall 
and  room  to  room.  •     ! 

"In  the  meantime,  two  masks  dressed  as  monks  had 
withdrawn  from  the  merry  crowd  into  a  window  cor- 
ner, and  wliile  looking  at  the  surging  multitude,  amused 
themselves  by  a  whispered  conversation.  j  '^-■■^' 

"So  you  have  fulfilled  my  commands?*  ; 

"'I  liHv'e  seen  and  spoken  to  her.'  I    , 

"'Are  you  sure  she  will  come?*  ! 

"'I  am  certain   of  it.*  I 

"'What   is  her  costume?'  >  !     ^       :i'' 

"  'She  is  dressed  as  a  fisher-maiden,  wears  a  green 
silk  net,  a  black  taffeta  petticoat,  and  a  little  blue 
velvet  cap  with  silver  acorns.*  ]' 

"'Very  well     What  is  the  password?*  I     '   . 

''Love  and  faithfulness.'  -      I 

"'All  rightl  now  go!  stop,  one  word  more,  the  Comte 
de  iManlevrier  will  not    come  .  .  .  you  answer  for  it?* 


-*y 


fifr-ii-feit-Tifff^l^ 


^'f-=!7^?'fS^^!f!>^  .*-*?''* 


THE    MASQUERADE  239 

" 'Most  devotedly— * 

"'Say  nothing  about  devotion,  titles,  and  respect, 
you  fool!  Would  you  betray  me?  Speak  plainly  and 
briefly.'  . 

"  'Well,  I  have  already  told  you  that  you  wear  the 
count's  costume  .   .   .   she  will  take  you  for  him.' 

'"Then  she  loves  him  very  much?' 

"'She  is  infatuated  with  him'.' 

"'And  she  is  very  beautiful?'  - 

"Beautiful  as  an  angel!     Ah!    you  have  good  taste!' 

"'Y6ung?' 

"'Scarcely  eighteen.* 

"'Go,  devil,  go!  You  will  send  me  to  eternal  dam- 
nation!    How  many  paternosters  must  I    say  for  this!' 

"One  of  the  monks  withdrew  and  disappeared  in  the 
crowd. 

"Ten  minutes  later,  two  masks  left  the  ball-room, 
and  after  hastening  up  a  pair  of  stairs,  reached  a  small 
apartment  which  looked  like  that  of  a  page  or  valet, 
and  was  certainly  the  sm.allest  and  most  solitary  in  the 
whole  castle.  The  two  masks  immediately  sat  down 
upon  a  stuffed  bench, and  one  of  them  said:      - 

"  'The  Comte  de  Meulan  has  surely  piromised  you  to 
be  silent,  Messire?' 

"'On  his  soul,  my  fair  one.* 

"  'Why  do  you  disguise  your  voice?' 

"'Prudence  requires  it.' 

"'In  so  secret  a  place?'  •  ' 

'"  'Have  we  not  a  password?* 


240  A    POYAl.   RORBER 

"'Certainly,  it  is   'love  and  faithfulness.*  ' 

"The  monk  and  fisher-maiden  now  drew  nearer,  and 
conversed  in  low  tones.  Time  passed:  the  clock  in 
ihe^  castle  tower  would  soon  strike  the  hour  of  mid- 
night, and  the  lovers  still  lingered  .  .  .  the  beautiful 
iisher-girl  noticed  it  and  said  entreatingly :  'But  why 
do  we  kec]>  on  our  masks,  and  disguise  our  voices?  Do 
you  fear  that  any  one  will  surprise  us  in  this  lonely 
room?' 

"'I  do  not  fear  it;  but  still,  on  sucli  a  night  as  this, 
another  pair  of  lovers  might  be  concealed  In  a  neigh- 
boring apartment.' 

"'Ah!  it  Is  pleasant  to  see  the  face  we  love  and  hear 
the  voice  that  moves  our  heart.' 

"'Do  you  love  me  so  fondly?' 

"'Can  you  doubt  it,  after  the  proof  I  have  given 
von?' 

"'Oh!  no,  my  angel,  my  little  rogue,  I  do  no,t  doubt 
It  ii:    the  least.' 

"'If  I  take  off  my  mask,  if  I  appear  before  you  as  I 
am,  will  you  not  do  the  same?' 

"'Yes,'  replied  the  monk  'Can  I  refuse  you  any 
thing  fair  one.'  ^-  :  ♦ 

"  'Gallant  as  ever,  Monseigneur,  I  recognize  you 
tliere. '  :  - 

'"Well,  dearest,  why  do  you  hesitate?'         ,      i 

"'Ah!  monsieur,  I  would  fain  see  your  face.  Grant 
me  this  request;   let  us  unmask  at  the  same  time.* 

"Both  removed  their  masks.  ! 


S««?^>7^?-i;^'S 


.  THE    MASQUERADE  24I 

'At  this  moment,  the  large  lamp,  whose  oil  was 
nearly  exhausted,  sent  out  one  last  bright  ray  before 
expiring.  'The  king!'  'Treachery!'  Instantly  echoed 
from  the  lips  of  both. 

"The  mask  disguised  as  a  monk  was  Louis  XI;  the 
fisher-maiden,  Madame  de  Sassenages,  the  king's  mis- 
tress. 

" 'Madame  Elfride  de  Sassenages,'  cried  Louis,  'I 
did  not  expect  such  a  meeting.' 

"The  comtesse  thought  it  best  to  faint,  and  Louis  Xf 
groped  his  way  down  the  stairs,  murmuring:  'That 
rascal  of  an  Olivier  has  played  me  a  bad  joke.  But 
no  matter.  My  little  peasant  girl  at  Jacob's  gate  shall 
not  be  forgotten!  and  le  Comte  de  Manlevrier  shall 
learn  that  it  is  unwise  to  hunt  upon  the  royal  pre- 
serves.' 

"A  month  had  passed  by.  Louis  XI  still  occupied 
the  Castle  of  Loches  making  use  of  his  maxim  'he 
who  cannot  dissemble,  cannot  rule.'  He  had  omitted 
no  effort  to  conceal  his  bad  hum.or  and  deep  displeasure. 

The  Comtesse  de  Sassenages  again  appeared  at  court 
and  was  treated  with  the  same  consideration  and  re- 
spect as  before.  Her  royal  lover  even  affected  a  greater 
admiration  for  her.  If  he  spoke  to  her,  the  most  " 
friendly  smile  played  upon  his  lips,  while  in  his  heart 
he  cherished  the  deepest  hatred  towards  her.  One 
evening  the  arrival  of  the  Comte  de  Manlevrier  was 
announced.     The  face  of   Louis  XI  suddenly  shone  as 

if  with  unfeigned  delight.     He    advanced    a  few  steps 
16    Robber 


feiiS#[f;#Hl^'rT-i«rT^#«rSaa^  ir;^iafia?rV-'S^-";''----r'--"'v-'^^1^ 


-X  -  -  -        ;       -     .  .     _.-'v 

:  4 .- 

I- 

242  A    POVAI     KORBFR 

...  I  .  - 

towards  thecomte.  and  offered  him  his  dry,  bony  hand. 
After  the  audience  was  at  an  end,  the  comte  rose  and 
noticed  that,  accompanied  by  the  king,  he  was  led 
back  through  another  passage  than  the  one  by  which 
he  had  come.  On  reaching  the  threshold  of  the  last 
door  he  turned  and  bowed  low;  the  crafty  monarch, 
following  him  with  his  eyes,  said:  'May  God  take  you 
under  His  care  and  the  saints  ever  be  with  you,  Mon- 
seigneur. ' 

"At  this  moment  the  f^oor  opened,  and  the  unfortu- 
nate nobleman,  with  a  fearful  shriek,  disappeared  in 
a  deep,  bottomless  abyss. 

"Louis  XI  went  back  to    his  room,  laughing  scorn 
fully,  and  crossed  himself.  ? 

"'Fortunately,'  he  muttered  between  his  teeth,  'the 
trap  door  worked  well,  and  the  donjon  cannot  speak.* 

"A  year  later,  the  report  was  circulated  that  the 
Comte  de  Manlevrier,  Lord  Seneschal  of  Normandy,  had 
perished  in  Sicily  in  the  service  of  the  Ducd'Anjou — " 

St.  Aignan  paused  and  rose.   The  trampling  of  many         ■■% 
horses  announced  the  arrival  of  the  king. 

The  duchesse,  too,  hastily  started  up,  looking  some- 
what pale  and  disturbed.  She  made  a  sign  for  her  suite 
to  approach.  i 

"And  what  does  the  story  mean?"  she  whispered  to 
the  Due.  ; 

"It  is  a  fact  in  history,*'  said  the  Due. 

"But  has  it  no  reference  to  anything?"  asked  Ange- 
line  quickly.  I  : 


fe-j^^i.^ii^ii^teisifaaMafesia.a 


THE   MASQUERADE  243 

"Not  exactly!  There  are  still  pretty  peasant  girls 
at  Loches,  still  loving  cavaliers,  and  also,  still  trap 
doors!  Use  caution,  divine,  beautiful  being,  caution 
in  all   things!" 

At  this  moment  the  doors  opened  and  Louis  XIV 
entered.  All  present  bowed  low;  but  the  king  ap- 
proached Angeline,  who  hastened  towards  him,  and 
with  a  light  bend  of  the  head,  took  her  hand  and  kissed 
.it. 

"Yes,  yes,"  said  he,  gazing  at  the  enchantingly 
beautiful  figure  of  his  mistress  with  delight.  "You  are 
a  worthy  queen  of  Olympus,  Jupiter  has  not  chosen 
ill.  The  world  will  envy  him;  but  they  are  awaiting 
you.  Go,  madame  la  duchesse,  the  evening  which 
I  cannot  pass  at  your  side  will  be  a  sad  one." 

Angeline  would  have  answered,  but  the  king  waved 
a  farewell  to  herself  and  her  train.  She  bowed  low, 
the  others  followed  her  example,  and  all  turned  to 
leave  the  duchesse's  apartments. 

At  the  same  moment  the  king  touched  St.  Aignan. 

"Is  all  prepared?"  he  whispered. 
_     "Everything,  Sire!" 

"The  blue  domino?" 

"The  blue  domino  with  the  light  yellow  cross." 

"  Very  well!" 

No  one  had  noticed  the  king's  whisper.  He  now 
quickly  left  the  room  by  another  door,  followed  by  his 
attendants.  St.  Aignan  and  the  rest  of  the  suite  put 
on  their  masks.    The  duchesse  herself  scorned  to  cover 


j^e5y«-^3:^^  -~  r  -^^^^^^-sf  r^-«f!=^.7Kwr?^w^:^^s|pra5^|«B|j^t;:5J^^ 


'^'-^i^^'W^ 


244  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  !     ■ 

her  face.  The  thought  of  concealing  her  radiant  beauty 
by  a  mask  was  too  painful  to  her.  i 

A  flourish  of  trumpets  resounded  through  the  room. 
Marie  Angeline,  the  beautiful,  proud  hostess,  Juno,  the 
enchanting  queen  of  heaven,  entered,  followed  by  all 
the  gods  and  goddesses  of  Olympus. 

The  ball  was  now  officially  opened,  the  mad 
gayety  increased.  The  sweetest  flatteries,  the  most 
exaggerated  compliments  greeted  Angeline  on  every 
side.  But  she  did  not  understand  how  to  separate  the 
exaggeration — which  often  concealed  a  cutting  sar- 
casm— from  the  true  recognition  of  her  beauty.  She 
did  not  have  enough  quickness  for  that;  her  vanit}' 
too,  since  her  exaltation  to  the  rank  of  duchesse  and 
her  stay  at  court,  was  so  unbounded  that  no  flattery 
was  too  gross  for  her. 

But  there  were  two  masks  that  disturbed  Angeline 
incomprehensibl}';  a  white  figure  and  a  monk,  who, 
alwa}s  inseparable,  were  ever  in  her  path. 

It  was  evident  that  they  were  trying  to  approach  the 
duchesse. 

But  Angeline  evaded  them;  she  did  not  exactly 
know  why.  i    . 

Ah!  yonder  came  a  little  procession  of  masks! 
how  fortunate,  it  separated  the  duchesse  from  her 
ghostly  followers.  ^       ' 

It  was  the  seven  deadly  sins  and   the  seven  virtues. 

The  sins  threw  themselves  in  the  dust  before  her, 
the  seven  virtues  led  her  in    triumph  to  a  costly  arm- 


i:"^--iij-C*t'^:"l:i'-te-'iir^-.-V.-3iV  .•..     ■•:.,'."i- ■■■.■■..  ,^..t,   .41- ■--.■.  ^     ■iiS2yA-iZ-Zi^':.-:^:~^--^^.:j^J^':itS!li^St^^ 


■  ^fs5?P'3^:^ffi:->P;<S'2^ 


rr,^!r^-j«r__  ra-S^  -r;  -  ^-^^ 


^:-V'    -  '      ■         ,-  THE    MASQUERADE  245 

chair  standing  ready  for  her.  Then  the  lourteen  masks 
grouped  themselves  before  her  and  performed  a  mimic 
dance,  in  which  the  virtues  struggled  witti  the  sins, 
came  to  blows,  and  after  ever  increasing  violence  of 
gesture  the  virtues  were  victorious,  overthrew  the  sins, 
and  sank  upon  their  knees  in  a  beautiful  group,  wor- 
shiping  the  duchesse. 

A  dense  crowd  surrounded  her  arm  chair  and  "the 
disguised  dancers;  but  hundreds  of  masks,  who,  on  ac- 
count of  the  throng;  could  not  approach  and  could  see 
nothing,   still  surged  in   the  halls. 

Two  blue  dominoes  with    light  5^eIlow    crosses  met. 

It  was  a  gentleman  and  lady.  A  brief  v/hisper — and 
they  disappeared. 

The  virtues,  too,  had  left  the  hall,  only  the  sins  re- 
mained, and  were  now  uttering  jests  which  were  not 
always  very  refined,  and  often    inflicted   deep  wounds. 

Angeline  de  Fontanges  hastily  rose.  The  mysterious, 
white,  ghost-like  figure  with  the  monk  behind  him, 
again  approached  her. 

A  shudder  ran  through  her  limbs,  the  white  garment 
involuntarily  reminded  her  of  a  shroud.  And,  it  was 
horrible,  the  figure  awoke  a  memory! 

"Queen  of  beauty  and  of  "heaven,"  whispered  a  tall 
Spaniard,  clothed  in  black,  upon  whose  breast  and 
cap  glittered  a  quantity  of  great  diamonds,  "queen  of 
beauty  and  of  heaven,  let  me  at  last,  in  this  hour,  lay 
my  heart  at  your  feet." 

Angeline  started.  Who  dared  to  address  such  words 
to  her,  the  king's  mistress? 


i^iiSfe4'^J^;i^.-.Y-i.^-,i&)'  .v^-j^,^^;.^^^^ 


'^«i.~!'  "»!*•'  »  _-r^ 


246      .  A    ROVAL    ROBBER 

If  another  ear  should  hear  these  words,  if  they 
should  be  conveyed  to  the  king,  Louis  had  spies  every- 
where. I 

Angeline  looked  around  her  in  horror;  but  the  deadly 
sins  were  of  some  use  they  were  making  such  a  noise 
that  one  could  not  hear  his  own  voice,        '  ' 

"Angeline!"  said  the  mask,  "child  of  the  gods,  you 
know  I  lo\  e  you  madl}'.  "  - 

"Who  dares?" 

"Who  dares  to  speak  to  you  thus,"  continued  the 
mask,  "there  can  be  but  one  at  court,  except  the 
king,  and  I  hope,  sweet  lady,  your  heart  guesses 
his  name!"  ; 

"St.  Aignan!"  whispered  Angeline   in  horror,  while 
a  deep  flush  crimsoned  her  face. 

"It  is  I."  i 

"And  you  dare — ."  | 

"Angeline!  have  I  dared  too  much,  has  my  heart 
deceived  me?" 

"Merciful  God,"  whispered  the  duchesse.  "We  shall 
be  observed." 

"Only  one  word,  beloved,, one  word," 

"In  heaven's  name,  remember  Comte  de  Manlevrier, 
of  whom  you.  have  just  told  me." 

"My  fate  lies  in  your  hands,  Angeline  Betray  me, 
and  I  shall — "  : 

"Monsieur  le  Due!   and  you  could  think — " 

"Let  me  think  but  one  thing,  Angeline,  only  one 
that  I  find  acceptance."  ,  i 


MiisM^^k^iMS..d,iaBM!iiiS!Sii£i}t;i>i^ 


THE    MASQUERADE  247 

"And  should  I  be  so  ungrateful  as  to  betray  the  one 
who  loves  me  so  tenderly,  who  has  raised  me  to  his 
own  height?" 

"Remember  Louis  XI  and  Olivier  le  Daim!" 

"You  traduce  him,  Monsieur  le  Due." 

"And  it  I  produce  proofs?" 

"No,  no,  it  is  impossible," 

A  fortune-teller,  covered  with  precious  stones,  ap- 
proached. 

"Well,  my  friend,"  said  she,  ''you  have  taken  the 
role  of  a  proud  Spaniard.  Take  heed  that  you  do  not 
act  out  of  character;  here,  as  well  as  in  Spain,  peo- 
ple are  confoundedly  jealous." 

"Calm  yourself,  my  pretty  fortune-teller,"  answered 
the  Spaniard.      "I  play  no  role,  but    only  with  them." 

"God  knows  that,"  said  the  fortune-teller,  laughing, 
"with  rolls  of  money." 

"They  are  the  pleasantest  and  most  acceptable." 

'And  the  ones  with  which  you  are  most  familiar." 

"Yes,  unfortunately,  for  they  all  run  off  before  I  am 
aware  of  it." 

"Because  you  understand  so  well  how  to  go  through 
them." 

"I'm  so  much  the  more  skillful  in  getting  them." 

"That  is  surely  no  heavy  task." 

"Heavy  when  they  are  light,  and  light  when  they  are 
heavy. " 

"You  attempt  the  lightest  and  heaviest,  and  succeed 
in  both." 


248  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  j   '      • 

''Because  I  know  their  insignificant  contents." 

"Which  may  yet,  precisely  because  they  are  insig> 
nificant,  be  very  painful  to  you." 

"My  God,  I  love  secret  worth." 

"But  just  now  }'ou  seem    to  be  upon  a  wrong  path." 

"Take  care,  take  care,"  cautioned  the  Spaniard,  "do 
not  burn  your  fingers.  You  think  to  take  up  a  glow- 
worm and  may  perhaps  seize  a  fiery  coal.  What  con- 
cerns me  I  recommend  to  the  favor  of  the  noble  queen 
of  Olympus."" 

"That  is  a  pretty  role  also!"  said  the  fortune-teller. 
"Pity  that  it  will  be  as  short  as  it  is  brilliant." 

The  duchesse  had  heard  nothing.  She  was  thinking 
of  what  the  Spaniard  had  just  said. 

St.  Aignan  started. 

"Was  that  a  prophecy?"  he  asked  the  fortune-teller. 

"I  do  not  depart  from  my  role, "  answered  the  latter. 
"Take  heed,  noble  Spaniard,  for  you  measure  your 
actions  according  to  your  own  advantage."  With 
these  words,  the  mask  mingled  among  the  crowd. 

"And  you  could  give  me  proofs  of  the  king's  un- 
faitiifulnessl"  whispered  the  duchesse,  in  unmistak- 
able agitation. 

"1  have  proofs,   yes.'*  ! 

"And  what  are  they?"  i 

"In  the  Agnes  Tower — '' 

"What  have  you  to  do  with  it?  I  wish  to  hear  noth- 
ing about  it.  There  are  ghosts  there.  The  old  ghost 
of  Loches,  a  white  figure,  has  been  seen  there  tor 
three  days." 


-■       *  • 

'WimiiJfeife'UTir-iif'irirttiiifiyfi^ifi-i 


m'W'ff^^m^^^^w^ 


" J-  .  THE    MASQUERADE  249 

At  this  moment,  a  half-smothered  scream  escaped 
the  duchesse's  lips,  the  white  figure  that  had  haunted 
her  all  the  evening  stood  close  beside  her. 

It  raised  its  finger  threatening!}' — the  hand,  too,  was 
white  as  marble. 

"What  is  it?"   asked  the  Spaniard. 

"Thaf  mysterious  mask,"  replied  the  duchesse, 
pressing  both  hands  to  her  throbbing  heart,  for  out 
of  the  holes  In  the  white  mask  sparkled  a  pair  of  eyes 
which  she  knew— which  she  had  known — but  which 
now — 

"Cease  this  miserable  joke,"  said  the  Spaniard,  step- 
ing  between  the  mask  and  the  duchesse,  "who  seeks 
to  frighten  ladies  at  such  a  ball?" 

The  figure  stood  motionless;  but  his  eyes  sparkled 
horribly  in  their  deep  eye-sockets. 

The  followers  of  Juno  had  pressed  forward  and  sur- 
rounded her  v/ith  a  glittering  circle.  The  Spaniard 
had  disappeared — and  ghost  and    monk' also  vanished. 

The  duchesse  sank  into  her  chair  exhausted. 

She  asked  for  some  refreshment,  and  her  attendants 
offered  a  beautiful  gold -beaker 

The  musicians  now  commenced  anew  piece.  It  was 
a  march.  The  doors  opened,  and  a  long  row  of  dwarfs 
with  monstrous  heads,  appeared.  But  in  the  midst  of 
the  procession  was  a  lovely  fairy,  surrounded  by  elfin 
maidens,  the  most  beautiful  of  whom,  preceding  the 
fairy,  bore  some  sparkling  object  on  a  purple  cushion. 

Slowly,  wagging  their  thick,  ugly  heads,  the  dwarfs 


ms^i^^siiisMi^^ 


K*9^'w»'^^?=qr¥S%r'^?^^       V*^Vr^f^^;^^^^ 


250  A   ROYAL   ROBBER  .  - 

and  gnomes  approached.  Amid  the  cheers  of  the  mul- 
titude, the  procession  made  its  way  round  the  great 
hall,  till  it  paused  before  the  hostess  in  such  a  posi- 
tion that  the  lovely  fairy  and  her  elfin  maidens  were 
directl}'  opposite  the  duchesse.  ' 

The  music  ceased  and  the  fairy  advanced  with  her 
elfin  train.  It  was  a  very  pretty  girl,  the  daughter  of 
a  prominent  official  in  the  city  of  Loches;  and  lovely 
as  herself  were  the  verses  she  now  repeated,  and  which, 
gracefully  composed,  eulogized  Angeline's  beauty.  To 
crown  this  beauty  she  had  come  with  her  gnomes 
and  elves  from  the  depths  of  the  woods  and  mountains 
summoned  by  the  city  of  Loches  and  its  inhabi- 
tants; for  the  city  of  Loches,  like  Orleans,  Blois, 
Tours,  and  Nantes,  wished  to  offer  the  favorite  of  Louis 
XIV  a  token  of  their  respect.  !       ' 

The  lovely  fairy  motioned  to  the  little  elves  with 
the  purple  cushion,  who  knelt  before  Angeline  de  Fon- 
tanges,  but  the  fairy  herself  took  the  splendid  diadem 
with  the  ducal  coronet — the  gift  of  the  city  of  Loches 
— and  amid  the  flourish  of  trumpets  and  enthusiastic 
cheers  of  the  guests,  placed  it  on  Angelme's  head. 

But  the  beautiful  duchesse  was  paler  than  usual, 
and  could  only  express  her  thanks  in  a  low,  almost 
tremulous  voice.  The  trumpets  again  resounded  and 
amid  shouts  and  merry  nods  from  the  dwarfs,  the  pro-' 
cession  withdrew.  |     : 

Ah!  what  different  thoughts  assailed  Angeline  at  this 
moment;  the    king    faithless    to  her?    if    it    should  be 


^jife:£ni..aatw1..^:€^>.a£<aaa»i,^Be^gc-.-,.gtoa:i^^ 


P^Bg'-???''?§''y^g-"3Bp^g'j«^ggg 


,_      "'■^:-     "  :'':'       THE    MASQUERADE  25I  ■ 

true!     Jealous}'  began   to  burn  and  St.   Aignan's  love. 

Oh!    he  was   handsome,  his  image   had    long    secretly 

reigned    in  her  heart.      If   the    king  were  faithless  to 

her! 

..  A  beggar  approached  and  implored  alms. 

-  Angeline  was  so  lost  in  thought  that,  for  a  moment, 
she  forgot  she  was  at  a  masquerade.  Hearing  only 
half  of  the  beggar's  request,  she  tore  one  of  the  eme- 
rald buttons  from  her  dress,  and  threw  it  into  his   hat. 

,  "Thanks!  thanks!"  whispered  the  latter,  his  voice 
trembling  with  joy,  "green  is  the  color  of  hope. 
But,  sweet  queen  of  beauty,  when  will  hope  be  fol- 
lowed by  fulfillment?" 

Angeline  trembled:   it  was  St.  Aignan  again. 

"Go!"  said  she  in  a  suppressed  voice,  "go,  old  man, 
you  make  me  a  beggar,  for  you  have  roused  causeless 
jealousy  in  my  heart."  v 

"It  is  sad  and  dangerous  to  be  blind,"  said  the  beg- 
gar, "therefore  I  opened  your  eyes." 

"And  yet  it  is  often  better  to  be  blind  than  to  see." 

-  "It  is  best  to  see — and  act  prudently." 
-  "And  suppose  one  sees  an  abyss?" 

"Then  one  can  avoid  it  because  they  see  it.  Blind 
we  should  fall  helplesly  in." 

"Everything  is  at  stake." 

"Nothing  at  all,  if  one  is  wise.  Let  the  spoiled 
child  have  the  toy  with  which  he  amuses  himself  for  a 
moment  ;but  revenge  yourself  in  secret, divine  Angeline. 
I->offer  yon  my  hand  and   a  heart  full  of  ardent  love." 


252  A   ROYAL   ROBBER  1 

■  '      '  '■  • 

'■  Memento  mori!"  said  a  deep,  stern  voice.       • 

Angelina  and  St.   Aignan  started.  i 

Again  the  white  figure  stood  before  them,  and  be- 
hind him  the  monk,  who  had  uttered  the  words. 

Angeline  was  voiceless,  the  eyes  of  the  white  figure 
glowed  like  coals  in  their  deep  sockets,and  his  glance 
rested  piercingly  upon  the  duchesse. 

"This  is  insufferable,"  cried  the  beggar,  putting 
his  hand  to  his  side,  as  if  he  wore  a  sword. 

The  figure  raised  its  finger  slowly  and  threateningly. 

"MVho  are  you?"  asked  the  duchesse  in  a  trembling 
voice.  V 

"We  are,  what  we  seem,"  replied  the  monk  gravely. 

"I  command  you  to  withdraw!"  ordered  the  hostess, 
gasping  for  breath. 

"When  you  have  heard  our  message,"  said  the  monk 
with  immovable  composure. 

"I  will  hear  nothing!"  cried  the  duchesse.  "Go! 
or  I  will  command  the  guards."  ; 

"Command  yourself  and  your  passions,"  replied  the 
monk. 

Crowds  of  people  now  surrounded  the  group. 

"That  is  going  too  far!"  cried  the  beggar.  "Off 
with  your  masks!  .  .  .  Ho!  guard!"  and  before  the 
white  figure  was  aware  of  it,  his  mask  was  torn 
away.  ^ 

A  death's  head  was  beneath. 

A  loud  scream  rang  from  every  lip.  ! 

"The  ghost  of  the    Agnes    Tower!  "  cried    hundreds 


fli  ~i  fa'  f^j  iirr-ffii>iffffiSiti»ffii>i  r'-miliSii4i^aiiai&-uSr^aftlrSB^^ 


tHE    MASQUERADE  153 

of  voices.  Every  one  drew  back  even  the  guards. 
-     The  trembling  duchesse  clung  to  the  chair. 

The  beggar  alone  did  not  shrink. 

"Away  with  this  foolery!"  he  cried  "off  with  this 
second  mask!"   and  he  grasped  at  it. 

But  a  heavy  blow  dashed  his  arm  aside.  The  hand 
of  the  white  figure  was  slowl}'  raised.  "You  have  for- 
saken God,"  the  voice  sounded  as  if  it  came  from  the 
depths  of  the  grave,  '/therefore  God  has  forsaken  3'ou. 
Woe  betide  you!  If  you  do  not  repent,  you  will  go 
down  to  eternal  night."  At  the  same  moment  the 
white,  ghostl}'  figure  removed  the  death's  head;  the 
pale,  livid  face  of  one  newly  risen  from  the  grave  ap- 
peared. 

A  still  louder  shriek  rang  on  the  air,  and  the  Duch- 
esse sank  fainting  into  the  arms  of  the  terrified  ladies 
who  surrounded  her. 

The  beggar,  too,  uttered  a  cry  of  surprise  and  hor- 
ror, and  started  back  as  if  from  a  spirit. 

"The  ghost  of  the  Agnes  Tower!"  again  echoed  on 
all    sides,  and    the     horror-stricken    crowd     recoiled. 

But  the  white  figure  and  the  monk  walked  slowly  to 
the  door  and  disappeared. 


.=N.  ■■ 


H''gr--''aS#'-'^V'l?¥;VTii^ii4>f£ii%W^ME^^ 


^■««  '"teC    *'    ^  ^ 


-.»iRs:pjt^g^ip^p5?^^^^>?5SE!^yy^ 


^!^=5^- 


CHAPTER  II. 


THE  POLITICS  OF  FRANCE. 


Louis  XIV  was  pacing  up  and  down  his  room  with 
rapid  strides.  It  was  a  gloomy  apartment,  like  all  the 
chambers  in  Loches,  and  even  its  furniture  was  some- 
what stiff  and  somber.  Everything  still  remained  just 
as  it  had  been  in  the  time  of  Louis  XL  Even  the 
private  altar  of  that  crowned  hypocrite  was  not  want- 
ing. It  occupied  one  of  the  dark  corners,  and  was 
surmounted  by  a  massive  silver  crucifix.     .  I , 

Louis  XIV  had  not  yet  prayed  before  it.  He  even 
averted  his  eyes  whenever  his  quick  steps  brought 
him  near  it,  not  from  want  of  religious  feeling,  for  he 
frequently  crossed  himself,  but  because  very  different 
thoughts  occupied  his  mind. 

It  was  secretly  rumored,  and  the  report  had  reached 
the  king's  ears,  that  the  ghost  of  the  Agnes  Tower 
was  the  spirit  of  Louis  XI,  who  had  perpetrated  fear- 
ful crimes  there.  And  in  fact,  that  very  night  as  he 
left  the  Agnes  Tower,  he  had  seen  with  his  own  eyes 
a  white  figure  in  one  of  the  long  passages  leading  to 
the  donjon.  But  the  strangest  thing  of  all  was,  that 
it  had  apppeared  in  the  great  hall  in  the  midst  of  the 
masquerade,  and  so  frightened   the  Duchesse  de  Fon- 

854  1  "  -•:: 


mi^sm£ss 


iiiMM^ii^£m^e!it.-i: 


'^i^i^tS^rii 


-  ,     THE   POLiriCS   OF   FRANCfc  255 

tanges,  that  she  had  been  taken  to  her  room  insensible. 

Louis  XIV  was  not  indifferent  to  the  affair.  The 
rememberance  of  the  fearful  deeds  which  the  walls  of 
J  Loches  had  witnessed,  weighed  upon  his,  mind  and 
spoiled  the  pleasure  of  his  stay.  The  determination  to 
leave  Leches  as  soon  as  possible  was  settled,  but  a 
.  secret  council  had  been  appointed  for  this  morning,  to 
attend  which  the  Marquis  de  Louvois  and  Colbert  de 
Croissi  had  arrived  the  night  before.  Captain  de  Torcy, 
'.who  was  on  guard  before  the  room,  had  been  ordered 
'to  admit  the  ministers  without  further  announcement. 
Matters  of  the  greatest  importance,  and  which  required 
the  utmost  despatch  were  to  be  discussed.  Ambassa- 
dors from  Prince  Tokoli  who,  in  connection  with 
France,  led  the  insurgent  Hungarians  against  Austria, 
as  well  as  deputies  from  the  Turks  had  arrived,  and 
must  be  answered  as  quickly  as  possible. 

The  ministers  entered,  and  the  king  sat  down  with 
his  hat  on  his  head.  The  Marquis  de  Louvois  and 
Colbert  de  Croissi,  bowing  reverentially, stood  opposite, 
separated  from  His   Majesty  by  the  huge,  round  table. 

The  consultation  began.  Oh !  walls  of  Loches,  into 
what  a  prefidious  plot  were  you  here  initiated. 

With  what  crafty  skill  Louis  XIV  and  Louvois  had 
ensnared  Leopold  I,  the  German  Emperor.  Occupied 
and  harassed  by  the  Hungarians  and  Turks,  the  mo- 
ment was  approaching  when  the  emperor  would  be 
like  a  man  bound  hand  and  foot. 

Oh  long  desired  moment  for  Loais  and  Louvois  when 


"  "'(TpaBBMPpj»''!»'i""S»-«S'''^ll*SF7«^ 


256  A   ROYAL    ROBBER  ' ' 

•  .1  -  .    ;    ■"     <u.'  '. 

you  come  then  will  be  the  proper  time  to  take 
Strassburg,  with  the  whole  left  upper  bank  to  the 
Rhine.  ' 

That  was  the  old  policy  of  Richelieu  and  Mazarin. 
And  the  wise  crafty,  ambitious  Louvois  had  adopted 
it.  ! 

The  royal  ante-chamber  remained  the  only  field  for 
parties,  and  the  one  aim  was  the  gracious  glance  of  the 
monarch.  Despotism  had  taken  up  its  abode  in  France, 
and  revolution  dug  its  mines.  In  the  meantime  Maz- 
arin toiled  unceasingly  for  the  foreign  greatness  of  his 
country,  concluded  the  peace  at  Ndnster,  and  the 
treaty  of  peace  with  Spain,  which  brought  both  coun- 
tries rich  profits.  When  he  died  he  surrendered  to 
Louis  XIV,  then  only  twenty-three,  a  peaceful,  victo- 
rious kingdom,  which  bore  in  itself  strength  for  great 
things. 

But  Louis'  penetrating  glance  knew  how  to  choose 
the  right  man  to  take  possession  of  the  inheritance  of 
Richelieu  and  Mftzarin.  This  was  Francois  Michel  le 
Tellier,  Marquis  de  Louvois,  whom  Mazarin  had  him- 
self recommended  upon  his  death-bed.  And  Louvois, 
as  we  know,  entered  upon  this  inheritance  v/ith  a  firm 
hand.  The  old  plans  for  conquest  and  extension  were 
continued,  and  to  the  horror  of  all  Europe,  fell  upon 
Alsace.  * 

1 

Now,  as  we  have  said,  nothing  remained  to  be  seized 
except  Strassburg,  and  the  last  part  of  the  left,  upper 
bank  of  the  Rhine.   Strassburg    and    the    left  bank  of 


^j^;,&aii^&akai^^i«ife^i«lifrii|^ 


|gjpaH^M*"*^»^'ftJr^  —  .^  ,;;gj^«yi.  .,^,«jj,.^j,-jjf^T5j^3j^j|,,35,jj«.j,njp«:-  ^•— ev-  T<7^j:''T-=_' ";^  •-'i;  -/Jb 


THE   POLITICS    OF    FRANCE  2^7 

the  Rhine  must  belong  to  France.  What  cared  Louis 
XIV  and  Louvois,  though  wars  arose,  rivers  of  blood 
.flowed,  countries  were  ravaged,  ,and  whole  nations 
made  miserable,  if  only  their  object  were  attained. 

So  the  "Most  Christian  King,"  Louis  XIV  of  France, 
formed  an  alliance  not  only  with  the  rebellious  Hun- 
garians, at  whose  head  was  Prince  Tokoli,  but  also — 
to  his  and  Louvois'  eternal  shame,  be  it  said, — with 
the  sworn  enemies  of  Christianity  and  all  civilization 
— the  Turks.  , 

The  fearful  and  bloody  war  which  at  that 
time  threatened  the  Austrian  dominions,  and  even 
Vienna  Itself,  was  in  a  great  measure  the  result  of 
French  influence  at  the  Porte.  Louis  XIV,  since 
1673,  had  kept  an  ambassador  in  Constantinople,  whose 
duty  it  was  to  maintain  a  secret  connection  between 
France  and  the  powerful  Prince  of  the  Crescent. 

Hungary  and  the  Turks  were  thus  Incited  to  make 
war  upon  Austria  and  German}^  from  the  east  so  that 
France  might  tear  one  piece  after  another  from  Ger- 
many in  the  west. 

The  French  Interests  in  Hungarian  affairs  was  rep- 
resented by  Christopher  d'Allanday,  Marquis  de  Boh  am 
The  latter  had  led  the  Poles  to  Hungary,  renewed 
the  alliance  between  the  insurgents  and  the  French 
ministers  and  distributed  the  monies  received  from 
Paris.  And  when  at  last  the  Turks  wished  to  attack 
the  emperor  again  and  support  the  Insurgents  with  an 

Immense  army,  the  marquis  forwarded  the  rebel' s  letters 
I J     Robber 


i»E£^!%^)j&ki»«^^S^^^»>^^.,S^^Si^»^'^li&.i^i£:^a^G^Eel^s^^ 


258  -  A  ROYAL  ROBBER  V  j 

to  the  French  cabinet.  Moreover,  this  was  done  in  a 
very  treacherous  manner,  which  violated  the  rights  of 
nations.  The  French  government  sent  the  letters  and 
remittances  of  money  for  the  insurgents  to  the  French 
secretary  of  legation  at  Vienna,  from  whence  the}' 
reached  the  marquis,  and  through  him,  the  insurgents. 
The  affair  was  discovered,  and  the  French  secretary 
of  legation  imprisoned,  whereupon  Louis  arrested  the 
Austrian  ambassador. 

The  marquis  de  Boham,  while  the  Hungarians  were 
in  possesssion  of  the  mints,  had    two    kinds  of  ducats 
struck  off,  one  with  the    head    of    Louis  XIV  and  the 
inscription  "Protector  of  Hungary,"  the  other  with  the 
head  of  Tokoli  as  prince  of  the  part  of  Hungary  occu- 
pied by  him.,  and    the     inscription     "For  religion  and 
Freedom."      But  the  insurgents  only  maintained   pos- 
session of  these  cities  for  a  short  time,  because  Tokoli 
was  soon  after  killed  near  Heilgenkrenz  b}'  Diinewald 
and  Wurm.      Leopold  himself    would    gladly  have  re- 
stored peace,  for  the  murdering,  burning,  and  wasting 
of  Hungary  not  only  by    the    Hungarians  themselves, 
but  the  Turkish  Pachas    continued  in    the    cities,  and 
many  hundreds  of  villages  were  entirely  destroyed,  but 
with  his  Jesuit    councilors     nothing    was    to  be  done. 
Even  when  in  1680,  a    peace    commissioner    was    ap- 
pointed, nothing  could  be  accomplished,  because  Louis 
sent  money  and  rich  presents    to    Tokoli     and  Apaffi, 
and  the  Grand  Vizier  promised  to    aid  the  insurgents 
with  the  whole    military    power    of    Turkey.     Tokoli 


w.^>w<-.:ii>*.!ia.ah&asL^<a.as^^.»i,«afej^,i^^  • 


.-:        .  THE    POLITICS    OF,  FRANCE  -  25C 

even  sent  Ambassadors  to  Paris  and  Constantinople, 
and  continued  his  murder  and  arson  at  the  very  time 
he  was  negotiating  with    the    emperor. 

It  was  these  ambassadors,  who  had  occasioned    the 
,  hasty  and  secret  council;     they    demanded  the  Hunga- 
rian     crown    for    Prince  Tokoli  in    return  for     whicli, 
Tokoli     and    his    insurgents  promised  to  declare    war 
anew  against  Austria. 

'These  matters  were  reported  to  the  king  by  Louvois, 
and  discussed  in  the  secret  council.  The  result  was 
that  the  crown  and  subsidies  were  granted,  in  return 
for  the  repeated  promises  of  the  Hungarians  and  Turks 
to  attack  Austria  at  once. 

When  this  important  and  difficult  matter  was  ar- 
ranged, the  king  asked:     "Is  this  all?" 

Louvois  bowed  low  and  answered  gravely.  * 

"As  your  Majesty  commands." 

"Is  there  nothing  more  to  propose?" 

"Yes,  Sire,  there  is  another  important  matter.  If 
your  Majesty  would  be  gracious  enough  to  prolong  the 
council  a  few  moments." 

"And  what  is  it?" 

"It  concerns  Strassburg!" 

"Ah"  cried  the  king,  "then  speak,  Monsieur  le  Mar- 
quis.  Is  the  fruit  not  yet  ripe  enough  to  shakedown?" 

"It  ripens  visibly  and  will  soon  lie  at  the  feet  of 
the  incomparable  Louis  the  Great,"  answered  the 
smiling  minister,  with  a  low  bow. 

"It  ripens  slowly,"  said  the  king. 


'5aBtiitii?''iftiiliYKia?Si#rrt'^i^ 


'  260  A    KO\AL    ROBBER 

I '- 

"But  surely,"  replied  Louvois.  'i 

"And  where  and  how  do  we  stand?"  .  ; 

"Your    Majesty's    minister,    Herr    von    Frischmann 
has  seat  new  reports  "  '  ; 

"Let  us  hear    the    most    important    ones— but    only 
the  most  important.     We  are  tired  of  the  long  confer- 
*   ence,  and  it  is  time  for  the  chase.     So    the    most  im- 
portant "  i 

"Will  your  Majesty  permit  me  to  read  Frischmann's- 
dispatch?"  ! 

The  king  nodded,  and  Louvois  read:  I 

"Sire,  since  my  last  report,  I  have  observed  that 
several  wagons  laden  with  powder  and  balls,  which 
have  arrived  in  Alsace,  have  surprised  the  magistrates 
of  Strassburg.  The  Stadtrichter,  Herr  von  Zedlitz, 
one  of  the  most  earnest,  wisest,  and  one  of  the  most 
well  disposed  of  the  coouncil,  has  spoken  to  me  about 
it,  and  that  the  people  here  can  draw  no  other  con- 
clusion from  these  hostile  preperations  in  the  midst  of 
peace,  than  that  the  city  had  been  unfortunate  enough 
to  incur  a  diminution  of  your  Majesty's  favor.  The 
acknowledgment  of  this  fear  was  accompanied  with 
expressions  of  the  deepest  devotion  and  respect  for 
your  Majesty,  and  the  most  emphatic  assurances,  that 
the  magistrates  had  not  the  slightest  intention  of 
treating  with  the  Imperial  ambassador,  Herr  von  Mercy, 
far  less  of  accepting  any  Imperial  troops.  At  the 
same  time,  Herr  von  Zedlitz  assured  me  he  was  ready 
to  enter  into  a  closer    intercourse    with    me    than  the 


teiiafce«!*i£iaafeafi^NaaaM.i:a!aaaiai^^ 


5P!?S"S»^w,..™-;^V,;2-- ,  ^"S^SgSg^l^^aSfr'Kf '  "  ^    ~'   —     '^^       _     -rTSSC-"   -^ 


I 


THE  POLITICS  OF  FRANCE  26I 

other  gentlemen.  I  thought  it  my  duty,  Sire,  to  ex- 
press my  special  thanks  for  the  service  he  had  rendered 
France  by  the  delivery  of  this  news,  and  to  give  himi 
the  assurance  that  I  would  apprize  your  Majesty  of 
his  zeal,  his  submission,  and  his  attachment  to  your 
interest." 

"Very  well!  said  the  king,  "we  have  already  granted 
money  for  bribes.  Herr  Giiuzer  has  recived  30,000 
florins  for  himself,  and  100,000  for  the  bribery  of  other 
members  of  the  council,  but.  .   .   " 

"Well?" 

"He  states  that  it  will  not  suffice." 

"Is  the  man  trustworthy,  and  zealous  in  our  service?" 
-  "Both,  Sire.  He  has  rendered  us  great  services. 
Gunzer  is  a  trustworthy  agent  and  an  excellent  spy.  I 
have  received  a  letter  from  him  in  which  he  exposes  all 
the  weak  points  of  the  city,  especially  the  want  of 
money,  the  insufficient  garrison  of  the  citadel,  and  the 
indifference  and  neglect  of  the  Emperor  and  empire." 

"Then,  Colbert,"  cried  the  king,  in  an  animated  tone, 
"pay  him  20,000  more  for  himself,  and  200,000  for  the 
magistrates.      We  will  and  must  have  Strassburg." 

Colbert  bowed. 

"There  is  still  another  mercenary  soul  among  the 
magistrates,  by  the  name  of  Stosser, "  said  Louvcis 
mockingly,  "he  has  entreated  the  ambassador  for  }our 
Majest3''s  picture!" 

"It  would  be  best  to  burn  it  on  his  forehead!"  said 
the  king  with  a    contemptuous    smile.     "That  is  mere 


'  "■■  ^■'■^--'■-  --^"•^^^^'fe^^'^-^^*'^^^^^^^'*^^ 


^^gg^^^  v'*'    -F^  '^- 'g^^^ 


262  A    ROV'AL   ROBBER 


hypocrisy.     If    these  venial  rascals    will  serve  us,  we 
should  be  fools  not  to  use  them,  but  they  still  remain 
traitors  to  their  country.     Frischmann  may  throw  this     :■ 
.  miserable  wretch  a    sum    of    money,  but    he  shall  not 
have  our  portrait.      Besides,  the    money  will    be  more      ! 
acceptable  to  him.     But     to    business.     We    wish    to 
go.     What  was  that    about    the     excitement,    that    is     .' 
vexatious,  how    shall  we  soothe  them?"  ' 

"If  your  Majesty  will  permit,"  said  Louvois  with  a 
scornful  glance  and  smile,  "we  will  deceive  the  very 
tvise  council  of  Strassburg,  and  the  citizens  of  the 
good,  old  city." 

"Ah!"  cried  Louis  laughing,  "it  is  very  evident 
that  you  arrived  at  Loches  during  a  masquerade!" 

"Masks,    disguises    and    dominoes      belong    to    the 
province  of  politics!"    said    the    minister.      "After  all,      J 
life  is  only  a  great  masqyerade,  and  the  world  the  baU  ..; 
room." 

"Not  bad!"  said  the  king,  "and  Louvois,  what  kind 
of  a  mask  are  you  wearing  now?" 

"That  of  the  minister  of   a    great    king,"    answered    *; 
Louvois,  with  a  low  bow,  "though  in  fact,  I  am  noth- 
ing but  the  most  obedient    servant,  the    most  devoted      . 
slave  of  the  greatest  of  all    princes    and  rulers,  Louis 
XIV!"  I 

The  king  smiled.      "So  we  esteem  in  the  faithful  ser-  >; 
vant,  the  minister,  and    in    the    minister,  the    faithful 
servant,"  said  he."  But  we    are    wandering    from    the 
subject!     how     shall    the     disturbance     be     quieted?"    :•-. 


kflj..-.W;^J.,--^-r--M^aa.,-'v..-;^r.;j>:^t..g>^W.ma:.i^^  .^-■i^-.ii^!^aLj-^~i.^}SSjaftffffj,::^:i!^ 


.'     ,.  THE    POLITICS    OF    FRANCE  263 

Iff 

"If  your  Majesty  will  graciously  permitj"  replied 
Louvois,  "I  will  grant  a  leave  of  absence  to  all  the 
officers  stationed  in  Alsace  who  have  requested  one. 
That  will  soothe  the  people,  and  we  shall  not  injure 
ourselves,  for  as  soon  as  the  right  moment  comes, 
your  Majesty  will  order  a  change  of  garrison,  and  un- 
der this  excellent  pretext  the  troops  will  be  consoli- 
dated, and  the  officers  who  have  been  granted  leave  of 
absence,   again  recalled  to  their  regiments."    " 

The  king  was  silent  for  a  moment,  then  slowly  bent 
his  proud  head  and  said:  "Very  v/ell!  but  we  fear  the 
report  of  our  military  preparations  in  Alsace  will  also 
spread  into  foreign  countries." 

"Then  your  Majesty  will  be  gracious  enough  to  send 
the  order  to  our  deputies  at  the  imperial  diet  of  Ratis- 
bon  and  the  Congress  at  Frankfort  to  disavow  every 
military  preparation  in  Alasace,  with  the  statement 
that  the  crown  of  France  will  consider  it  an  insult  if 
such  things  are  foisted  upon  it. "  ] 

"Those  are  strong  words,"  said  the'king. 

"But  they  will  frighten  the  brawlers  and  keep  them 
quiet.  Bold  assumption  and  startling  measures  have 
accomplished  much  with  the  good  Germans." 

"So  be  it  then!" 

"And  now,  one  thing  more,  your  Majesty,"  said 
Louvois.  "I  entreat  j'ou,  Sire,  to  empower  me  to  or- 
der Marshal  Vauban,  our  most  famous  strategist,  to 
proceed  to  Alsace  in  the  strictest  incognito." 

'And  could  that  remain  concealed?" 


iteiir'aiife?iiltfife'#f^'i»s»^^^^^^^^  '  '■"  *  -i-aiiTi  ■iiTiii#in"irrfe'-^'i^-» 


*V'7Sf^^^'^'K3p^3aSP*«'"^S"s^i3'''>PT^ 


264  A    KOVA]     KOBP.EH        —        "  { 

ii 

"He  can  give  out  that  he  is  gomg  to  Italy,  take 
cross  roads,  and  avoid  the  great  cities  and  densely  in- 
habited neighborhoods.  We  must  know  the  country 
about  Strassburg  and  be  prepared."  > 

"Very  well!  We  will  grant  this  also,"  said  the  kin 
"But  in  case  of  a  war  we  have  still  something  to  con- 
sider; if  it  comes  to  fighting  here  or  there,  Protestant 
troops,  if  they  can  be  obtained,  are  always  to  be  pre- 
ferred. We  owe  it  to  our  holy  mother  church  to  spare 
her  children,  the  heretic  dogs  are  of  no  consequence !" 

Louvois  bowed;  he  knew  this  maxim  of  Turenne's, 
and  shared  it  with  him  and  the  king. 

He  could,  therefore,  joyfully  inform  His  Majesty,  that 
bought  over  and  influenced  by  the  bishop  of  Strass- 
burg and  Giinzer,  already  more  than  twenty  noble 
families  had  declared  themselves  favorable  to  Catholic- 
ism and  only  awaited  the  fall  of  the  city,  to  openly 
^turn  Roman  Catholic.  : 

At  this  moment  words  were  heard  in  the  ante-room, 
in  which  Captain  de  Torcy's  voice  was  distinctly  au- 
dible. '        ■     ,, 

"No  one  can  see  His  Majesty  now, "  hesaid  in  a  Joud, 
resolute  tone. 

"And  why  not?'*    asked  another  voice.  L. 

"He  is  in  council."  *"; 

"But  I  must  tell  His  Majesty  something.** 

"I  can  admit  no  one."  i 

"The  ghost  .   .   .   - 

"Louvois,"  cried  the  king,  starting  up  in  violent 
agitation.  I 


:j;a■jt5ffi;Ag£:i^:a^&»i.y;;3fc^f^^^^■^;v:^^  -, 


THE   POLITICS    OF   FRANXE 


265 


"Sire." 

"Let  whoever  is  there  enter." 

Louvois  went  to  the  door  and  commanded  de  Torcy 
to  admit  the  man. 

It  was  a  servant  belonging  to  the  suite  of  the  Duch- 
esse  de  Fontanges.  The  man  was  deadly  pale  and 
trembled  in  every  limb. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  the  king. 

"Oh I  your  Majesty!"  cried  the  trembling  wretch, — 
the  ghost  has  appeared  again.  Your  Majesty  ordered 
me  to  inform  you  if  it  was  seen."         " 

"And  where  was  it?"  . 

"Close  to  the  apartment  of  the  Duchesse  de  Fon- 
tanges." 

"Afort  de  ma  vieP''  cried  the  king  angrily,  stamping 
his  foot.      "What  does  this  mean?" 

"It  was  the  terrible  v^hite  figure  again,  they  sa}'- — 
it  is  the  ghost." 

"Have  done  with  that!"  cried  the  king  quickly,  with 
a  clouded  brow,,  "and  what  happened?" 

"The  guards  ran  away,  crossing  themselves." 

"Cowards,"  muttered  Louis. 

"And  the  ghost  went  straight  toward  the  apart- 
ment in   which  the  duchesse  was — " 

"And?  go  on  ...  go  on  ...  " 

"But  warned  by  the  cries  of  the  guard  .  .  .** 

"Well?" 

"The)'  locked  the  doors." 

"Locked  them?  and  the  ghost?"  , 


^^MI^i^^S£iiil!Siif6^Si&^di&&Jk,^S!i~  J-« 


vsi^sm 


GiiS^,  . 


^'^'^^''''^mr'^^^'^^'^W^'^'^'^^^'^'^^  -  '^^T^^B? 


266  -A   ROYAL    ROBBER 

"When  he  found  that  this  was  the  case  .  .  .  turned 

round — "  '  i 

" Diabhr  cried  the  king,  "he  turned?  Then  there 
is  treachery  behind  the  mask!  Up,  my  lords,  follow 
us!  We  will  yet  see  what  rascal  dares  to  play  the 
ghost  of  Louis  XI,  and  to  terrify  our  little  tender 
dove,  the  Duchesse  de  Fontanges.  Where!  where  did 
the  thing  go?" 

"To  the  Agnes  tower!"  i         ,    , 

"And  the  guards  did  not  detain  it?"  asked  Louvois 
sternly.  ,  '  1 

"No  one  dared  to  do  so." 

"Well!"  cried  Louvois,  crimson  with  shame  and 
anger.      "I  will  teach  them  to  deal  with  ghosts." 

The  servant,  in  obedience  to  a  nod  from  the  king, 
withdrew. 

"Did  you  hear  of  the  affair  on  your  arrival  last  night, 
Louvois?" 

"Yes,  your  Majesty,  I  heard  all;  the  whole  castle 
was  in  an  uproar." 

"What  do  you  think  of  it?" 

"What  your  Majesty's  penetration  has  Instantly 
perceived,  that  there  is  treachery  here." 

"And  what  madman  would  venture  to  play  this  bold 
game. " 

"Sire!" 

"Well?    Put  with  It."  _      \         "':^ 

bire — 

"We  command  you  to  tell  your  opinion.*' 


taA^«fcs<&4|,.iM(||»^,,.|*f(j,,^aiiilj.yj(.,,-f^ 


Itu^. 


THE  POLITICS  or   FRANCE  2&J 

"If  it  should  be  confirmed,"  said  Louvois,  "it  might 
cost  the  traitor  his  head,  for  he  is  undoubtedl}'  grasp- 
ing at  your  Majesty's  dearest  treasure." 

"Mart  de  ma  vie!    Your  meaning!" 

"I  was  informed  last  evening  that  the  Due  de  St. 
Aignan  was  absent  from  the  masquerade." 

The  king  turned  pale,  but  said  quickly:  "No,  there 
you  have  been  misinformed,  Louvois.  We  saw  him 
with  our  own  eyes  enter  the  hall  dressed  as  Mars. " 

"That  is  true.  Sire,  but  Mars  is  said  to  have  soon 
disappeared,  become  invisible." 

"What!"  cried  the  king,  with  flashing  eyes,  "perhaps 
he  was  assisting  us  to — "  - 

"Sire!"  repeated  Louvois  craftily,  but  with  scarcely 
suppressed  scorn,  "have  the  grace  to  remember  that 
what  I  say  is  only  supposition." 

"The  devil  take  such  a  supposition,"  cried  the  king. 
"Yet,  by  Heavens,  if  it  should  be  confirmed,  there 
will  be  one  head  the  less  on  earth.  Follow  us,  gentle- 
men, we  will  face  the  ghost!" 

And  the  king  hurried,  with  flashing  eyes,  towards  the 
Agnes  tower.  St.  Aignan  was  his  favorite,  but,  if  he 
had  really  played  the  ghost — Louis  would  not  follow 
out  the  train  of  thought  that  assailed  him. 

The  guards  were  still  standing  in '  bewilderment, 
scarcely  capable  of  making  the  proper  salute  on  the 
approach  of  the  king. 

Louis  XIV  did  not  notice  it;  he  turned  hastily  into 
the  passage  which  led  to  the  notorious  tower,  where, 


TtiMhKlf  Artlitif-l  111   .IT  rb  -wf  ^{^i^f■1in^■' .■il\,y\'Tf^~^- ^'•^ 


.  J 


268 


A    ROYAL    ROHBER 


'■  r 


according  to  the  statement  of  the  guard,  the  ghost  had 
disappeared.  ! 

He  had  just  turned  a  corner,  when  the  Due  de  St. 
Aignan,  dagger  in  hand,  rushed  down  the  corridor  from 
the  opposite  direction.  '       . 

The  king  stopped,  horror  stricken. 
"Monsieur   le    Due!"    he    cried.      "What    does    this 
mean?     It  is  high  treason  to  carry   a  naked  dagger   in 
the  king's  house!  " 

"Sire"  exclaimed  the  Due,  "I  drew  it  for  the  king's 
house.     Let  me  go,  for  God's  sake,  I  must  follow  the. 
ghost." 

"What?"  cried- the  king  sternly,  "does  the  masque- 
rade continue  to-day?"  1 

But  the  words  died  on  the  king's  lips,  for,  involun- 
tarily following  St.  Aignan's  hand  with  his  eyes,  he 
plainly  perceived  the  white  figure  in  the  passage  that 
opened  into'  tiie  Agnes  hall  of  the  church  of  Loches. 
"Ha!"  exclaimed  the  king,  much  relieved,  "so,  St. 
Aignan,  it  is  not  you  who  play  this  rascally  ghost?" 

"I?  Your  Majesty?"  said  the  Due,  as  if  utterly 
amazed^  but  a  glance  at  Louvois  put  him  on  the  right 
path.  "Oh,  no,  Sire,  I  do  not  play  the  ghost,  but  it 
seems  that  someone  else  has  plaNcd  me  a  shabby 
trick."  i 

"Not  a  word  now!"  cried  Louis  XIV.  "Draw  your 
daggers  and  follow  me,  the  sly  ghost  has  caught  him- 
self. The  wretch  will  not  escape  usi  Down  with  him 
if  he  resibtsl "  !      -  - 


i^^^Mi^ii^&jM^^Si^i^^ 


&t:^&x>^SAi'!riS& 


THE   POLITICS   OF  FRANCE  -  269 

LouvoId'  and  Colbert's  daggers  flashed  beside  St. 
Aignan's,  and  all  three,  following  the  king,  rushed  to 
the  end  of  the  passage  which  opened  into    the  church. 

"There  it  is!  "  all  exclaimed  in  the  same  breath,  as 
they  saw  the  white  figure  near  the  mausoleum  erected 
to  the  memory  of  the  beautiful  Agnes  SoreL 

"Down  with  him!"  cried  the  king;  and  his  three 
companions  rushed  forward. 

Only  a  ponderous,  gilded  railing  and  some  massive 
pillars,  which  supported  the  vaulted  roof  of  the  church, 
separated  them  from  the  figure. 

They  had  now  reached  the  mausoleum  ;  the  beautiful, 
marble  figure  of  the  lovely  sleeper  rested  peacefully 
upon  the  sarcophagus.  Two  angels  held  the  pillow 
upon  which  the  beautiful  head  rested,  and  two  lambs, 
symbols  of  gentleness,  were  at  her  feet. 

All  was  hushed,  quiet,  and  solemn. 

The  king  and  his  followers  stood  petrified  with 
astonishment. 

"Let  us  search  ever3'thing  thoroughly!"  said  Lou- 
vois,  "perhaps  there  is  a  recess  or  secret  passage  here. " 

They  made  a  strict  search,  but  found  nothing.  All 
was  stong,  solid  masonry,  massive  walls,  immense 
columns,  a  mausoleum  of  marble,  and  behind  it  a 
huge  oak  confessional — nothing  else. 

There  was  no  one  to  be  seen;   the  figure   had   disap- 
peared.    The  king  crossed  himself. 
.,  Louis  XIV  and  his  court  left  the  castle    of    Loches 
that  same  afternoon. 


liiilr'liF  hfifSin     liTSSiirtffliffff^'l^^  r'-riTTf^S^nt'-S-'^^>i^^''-ar'-7^''!^lmT-^^ 


i-v;-.---j.v-'«-ara3?>^i! 


CHAPTER  III. 


STORMS.  : 

Syndicus  Frantz  returned  fom  Vienna  with  a  heavy 
heart.  The  Emperor  and  his  ministers  had  remained 
deaf  to  all  his  representations,  enteaties  and  warnings. 
The  storm  that  was  approaching  in  Turkey  kept 
Vienna  and  the  court  in  constant  fear  and  anxiety. 
There  was  no  hurry  about  Strassburg ;  the  most  satis- 
factory assurances  had  been  received  from  Louvois  and 
the  Bishop  of  Strassburg,  according  to  which  the  king 
of  France  had  not  the  slightest  idea  of  making  any 
hostile  demonstration  towards  Strassburg. 

So  the  Syndicus  left  Vienna  with  a  heavy  heart,  and 
hastened  home,  although  the  order  had  been  sent  to 
him  to  continue  his  efforts  at  the  Imperial  court. 

The  party  of  the  patriots  greeted  their  noble  leader 
with  delight;  but  Giinzer's  adherents  were  enraged  that 
Syndicus  Frantz  should  have  left  Vienna. 

Herr  Obrecht  and  Herr  Hecker,  urged  on  by  Giinzer 
made  the  motion:  to  indict  Syndicus  Frantz  for  dis- 
obeying the  orders  of  the  government.  A  fearful  storm 
arose;  the  patriots  fought  for  their  leader  with  fiery 
eloquence;   those  in  favor  of    France,  Dr.  Obrecht    at 

aw 


H)hi--ir4-mrHt%rtitiiMtffe*i»^ 


STORMS  271 

• 
their  head,   raged  against  Frantz  and  his  party,  whom 

they  accused  of  having  already  urged  the  little  republic 

to  the  edge   of    the    abyss.      But    like    all    storms    in 

human  life  and   nature,  this    too    subsided,  and    Syn- 

dicus  Frantz  began  to  speak. 

Quietlj'  and  clearly,  the  worthy  man  laid  his  whole 
proceedings  in  Vienna  before  the  meeting:  proved  by 
words  and  papers,  that  nothing  was  to  be  hoped  for 
from  the  German  Emperor,  and  that  he  was  obliged  to 
leave  Vienna  in  order  not  to  arouse  a  feeling  of  indig- 
nation against  the  city  in  the  minds  of  the  ministers 
and  His  Imperial  Majesty  himself. 

Herr  Giinzer  began  to  speak,  and  with  a  smiling 
manner,  sought  to  prove  that  Strassburg  had  nothing 
to  fear.  In  pompous  language,  Giinzer  dilated  upon 
the  great  sevices  rendered  by  Louis  XVI,  and  how 
the  king  only  wished  for  the  welfare  and  freedom  of 
Strassburg  and  of  the  German  Empire,  while  Emperor 
and  Empire  had  deserted  the  city. 

But  Syndicus  Frantz  could  no  longer    keep   silence. 

"What! "  he  cried,  "folly  to  fear  anything  from 
France!  Are  we  all  blind  here,  or  only  Herr  Giinzer? 
Louvois  is  executing  his  king's  commands  with  the 
greatest  secrecy.  Under  the  pretense  of  working  at 
the  fortresses,  he  is  ordering  numerous  bodies  of  troops 
to  march  into  Lorraine  and  Alsace.  Do  we  not  know 
this?" 

"These  are  mere  illusions,  which  may  readily  be 
pardoned  in  an  over  anxious  patriot,  like  the  Syn- 
dicus!"  said  Giinzer, 


•rfiSife:,Ttiaft^'ja'gataja:,,a>str-...i,i«-~^j>-4i^^ 


„-!.  jgrs,  -^^^s  r  ^if 


-l?«fs-^^- 


272 


A  ROYAL  ROBBER 


"Illusions!"  cried  the  Syndicus.  "But  see!  What 
is  this  story  about  the  broken  meal-chest?" 

"What  is  that?"  asked  the  Ammeister,  Dominique 
Dietrich.  < 

"This  morning,"  continued  Syndicus  Frantz,  "before 
1  came  to  the  council,  I  received  a  written  report  of 
the  great  excitement  in  the  surounding  country." 

"Fairy  tales!"  cried  Giinzer.  i 

The.  Syndicus  did  not  allow  himself  to  be  inter- 
rupted. I  , 

"It  has  long  been  remarked,  my  friend  writes,"  con- 
tinued Frantz,  "that  a  quantity  of  chests,  ostensibly 
filled  with  arms  for  Breisach  and  other  strongholds 
have  been  sent  here  from  France.  But  a  few  days 
since  one  of  these  chests  was  broken  in  transportation, 
and,  to  the  astonishment  of  all,  betrayed  its  true  con- 
tents." I  ■:,, 

"And  what  were  they?"  cried  several  voices 
.  "Meal!"  answered  Frantz.  I 

"And  what  of  that!"  said  Giinzer.  "Must  not  France 
provide  for  the  maintenance  of  her  garrisons?"   ; 

"She  does  that  besides,  and  openly.  Why,  and  for 
what  purpose,  are  these  provisions  secretly  brought  into 
the  country?"  ; 

"Probably  to  give  the  tattlers  and  busy-bodies  no 
material  for  childish  alarm."  - 

"No,  Herr  Giinzer!"  cried  Syndicus  Frantz;  "Lou- 
vois  has  corn  ground  in  distant  places,  and  the  meal, 
after  being  secretly  packed,  sent  into  Alsace  in   great 


SMiS^&k^^^^^.Ss^^.^is^^&^i£^:^ 


—JSKSir  ~5  -j»-""'_r:w^F^^««--.''^*^st  :?^;s»->» .  •>-~^:;j-t—  ,'  -    -  '  -~  — -ji:^«^^_^j —  _  -     .  '    K# 


-STORMS  273 

quantities  to  have  a  store  in    readiness,  in    case  of    a 
certain  possible  occurrence." 

"If  we  make  a  few  advances  to  France  in  a  reasona- 
ble way,  we  shall  have  nothing  to  fear,"  said  Herr 
Von  Zedletz,  "Herr  von  Frischmann  has  told  us  pf 
a  diplomatic  communication  from  his  court." 

"And  what  does  Louvois  demand?" 

"The  king  of  France  requires  the  oath  of  allegiance." 

"A  German  city-  cannot  take  the  oatli  of  allegiance 
to  any  foreign  power,"  cried  several  voices. 

After  a  few  grave  words,  the  president  again  re- 
quested Syndicus  Frantz  to  speak. 

He  did  so,  and  quietly  but  plainly,  showed  that  the 
proposition  of  France  was  the  first  direct  blow  against 
the  political  existence  and  independence  of  Strass- 
burg. 

When  he  paused,  Giinzer  rose.  He  severel}- censured 
Obrech's  remarks,  spoke  long  in  beautifully  chosen 
phj-ases,  of  the  noble  feeling  of  true  patriotism,  and 
said  how  necessary  it  was  to  keep  friendly  with  the 
powerful  country  of  France. 

At  this  renewed  praise  of  the  government  of  Louis 
XIV,  the  Syndicus'  heart  beat  with  anger,  his  eyes 
flashed,  the  muscles  of  his  face  twitched,  and  when 
he  rose,  notwithstanding  his  years,  he  resembled  a 
youth  entering  the  arena,  ready  for  battle. 

"What?"  he  cried,  "does  any  one  dare,  in    the    face 
of  history,  answer  for  Strassburg's  safety  from  France? 
Does  any  one  dare  to  speak    of    the  French  ruler  as  a 
18    Robber  . 


'    'J^       -V  1* 


I 


274  A   ROYAL  ROBBER  i 

protector  of  German  freedom?  Is  it  necessary  for  me 
to  remind  you  of  the  theft  of  the  bishoprics  «f 
Metz,  Tull  and  Verdun?" 

Syndicus  Frantz  was  silent;  but  his  words  had  fired 
many  a  heart.  Even  those  of  many  of  the  weak,  un- 
decided ones  glowed,  and  when  the  loud  cheers  from 
the  patriots  greeted  the  noble  speaker,  their  voices 
mingled  in  the  shouts. 

Giinzer  and  his  party  were  silent  and  ga^ed  gloomily^ 
around    them.      But    the    clerk    had    no    fears,  for    he 
knew  his  people. 

To-morrow  the  momentary  enthusiasm  would  die 
out  of  most  hearts — and  the  rest  were  bought. 

Giinzer  went  up  to  the  Ammeister,  who,  after  a  few 
moments,  announced  that  on  account  of  the  great 
excitement  the  council  would  be  closed. 

A  fiendish  smile  flitted  over  Giinzer's  features. 

He  knew  that  he  had  gained  the  victory. 


•■->^-^-'Si^^^'»^feaafej&Mtfaii^^  asfc: 


■  -Tt.«a?--!^'iws  ^"■t>7'^*^f^^''Tiir>  't^^- 


^  CHAPTER  IV. 

THE    GHOST. 

It  was  already  very  late,  but  altKough  warm  and 
beautiful,  the  night  was  one  which  kept  not  only  half 
Paris  and  Versailles,  but  probably  the  greater  part  of 
the  inhabitants  of  Europe  on  their  feet,  for  the  huge 
comet,  for  which  the  year  1680  was  remarkable,  hung 
in  the  sky  like  a  vast,  fiery  rod. 

This  was  the  first  time  that  it  had  been  wholly  visi- 
ble, as  hitherto  clouds  had  partially  concealed  it;  and 
its  appearance  terrified  all.  It  was  so  large  that,  even 
when  its  head  had  set,  a  portion  of  the  train  which 
was  more  than  seventy  degrees  long  and  ver}'  wide, 
could  be  seen  all  night  above  the  horizon. 

Men  trembled,  prayed,  and  crowded  into  the 
churches,  for  the  destruction  of  the  world,  earthquakes, 
war,  and  pestilence,  were  prophesied  ;  while  all  Ger- 
many resounded  with  the  terrified  cry:  "The  Turks, 
the  Turks!  it  means  the  destruction  of  the  empire  by 
the  Turks!" 

Even  in  Versailles,  at    the  court  of  Louis  XIV,  the 

excitement  roused  by  this    imposing    sight  was  great; 

though,  inconsequence  of  the  incredible  frivolity  that 

275 


iiiMii»j-itTirMrtrri^iTirir'i.iiifiiltifim»iirii«iviiiTfi?W 


'''^i^^yyT^'^^^'y^'^'Sg'yyyj^sgsgi^b^i^ggB^^ 


276  \  A   ROYAL   ROBBER  '     t 

^prevailed,  secret  anxiety  was  expressed  b)^  Jeers  and 
iCoffs  at  the  fear  experienced  by  all.  The  Due  de  St. 
A.ignan  naturally  set  the  example.  Though  secretly 
intimidated,  and  in  reality  painfully  reminded  of  the 
legions  of  his  sins,  he  was  outwardly  full  of  witticisms 
about  the  unbidden  guest,  while  from  his  lips,  ever 
ready  with  an  anecdote,  flowed  a  never-ceasing  stream 
of  tales  about  comets,  ghosts,  supernatural  appearances, 
and  similar  stories.  But  the  Duchesse  de  Fontanges 
was  so  deeply  agitated  that  she  had  been  unable  to 
seek  her  couch. 

She  had  undressed  long  before  and  was  in  a  negUgi 
costume.  i 

She  was  a  matchlessly  beautiful  vision,  as  she  stood 
at  the  open  window  of  her  sleeping-room,  gazing  out- 
half  in  terror,  half  in  surprise  and  delight— at  the 
night-heavens,  in  which  the  Eternal  One  had  placed 
that  great  and  terrible  object,  the  fiery  comet.  i    _ 

A  thin  white  cambric  dressing-gown,  covered  with 
delicate  embroidery,  scarcely  veiled  the  wonderful 
outlines  of  her  faultless  figure,  and  through  the  lace 
that  floated  around  her  like  clouds  of  mist,  appeared 
her  bare  arms,  beautiful  neck,  and  matchless  bust, 
for  the  light  robe  was  onh^  fastened  by  a  girdle.       ; 

The  king  and  the  whole  court  had  heard  of  the 
ghost;  but  it  had  been  seen  only  by  some  of  the  guards 
and  in  the  vicinity  of  the  duchesse's  apartments. 

And  the  latter — had  she  not  gazed  at  Loches,  into 
its  pale,  livid  face,  the  face  of  a  dead  man,  that  chilled 


THE    GHOST  -      277 

the  very  marrow  in    her    bones,    and    whose    memory 
startled  her  soul  like  the  trump  of  doom. 

"Yes,  it  was  his  ghost,"  cried  a  voice  in  Angeline's 
heart — and  this  ghost  pursued  her  even  here! 

Angeline  already  repented  what  she  had  done.  She 
was  the  worshiped  favorite  of  the  king;  she  had  been 
raised  to  the  rank  of  Duchesse  de  Fontanges,  she  was 
rich,  powerful,  almost  a  queen;  she  was  radiant  in 
youth  and  beauty,  the  boldest  of  her  vain  wishes  had 
already  been  gratified  and  even  surpassed,  and  she 
had  hitherto  felt  unspeakably  happy — but  now? 

Ever  since  she  had  gazed  into  the  pale,  livid  face 
of  the  apparition  at  Loches,  her  composure  had  fled, 
her  conscience  cried  out:  "You  have  turned  aside  from 
the  path  of  virtue,  you  have  forgotten  your  poor  mother, 
your  faithful  teacher;  you  have  sent  the  man  who 
loved  you  so  truly  and  fondly  to  his  death,  you  are 
Gauthier's  murderer! — for  the  face  of  that  unhappy 
ghost  wore  Gauthier's  features. 

The  impression  was  a  terrible  one  at  the  time,  yet 
the  next  few  days  with  their  changes,  intoxicating 
pleasures,  homage,  and  mirth,  majesty  and  splendor, 
utterly  effaced  it. 

Angeline  was  still  standing  at  the  open  window  of 
her  sleeping-room,  and  the  picture  she  formed  was 
indeed  one  of  surpassing  beauty.  The  fact  that  she 
was  the  king's  favorite  disturbed  the  cliarming  Ange- 
line de  Fontanges  very  little.  In  those  days— es- 
pecially at    the  court  of  Louis  XIV, — people  were  ac- 


MMiiiiffffltnfffrfiiftiiM-'^Tii^'^i^^ 


■ws«^l^>w^«\     "•p=_; 


278 


A    ROYAL    ROBBER 


customed  to  such  things.  His  Majesty  had  already 
had  a  succession  of  favorites,  and  moreover  had 
been  in  love  with  all  the  beauties  of  the  court, 
even  his  own  sister-in-law.  All  the  princes,  prin- 
cesses and  nobles  in  the  kingdom — whether  mar- 
ried or  not — had  their  love  affairs  and  intrigues. 
Therefore  Angeline's  relations  toward  the  king  would 
have  disturbed  her  very  little  if  she  had  not  been 
haunted  day  and  night,  by  fear  of  the  ghostly  appari- 
tion. It  was  Gauthier's  ghost,  of  that  she  was  sure, 
and  the  thought  that  she  had  sacrificed  her  early  lover 
was  the  cause  of  the  agitation  of  her  soul,  and  of 
course  the  appearance  of  the  comet  increased  her  anx- 
iety and  terror.  I   , 

There  it  was,  the  huge  comet,  and  no  one  knew 
whence  it  came  or  whither  it  was  going.  The  whole 
world  trembled  before  the  mysterious  visitant  that, 
perhaps  the  very  next  instant,  might  fall  upon  the 
earth  and  crush  it  into  shapeless  ruin. 

Angelina  trembled.  Her  mind  had  not  strength  to 
rise  above  the  universal  superstition,  nor  did  she 
possess  the  blasphemous  levity  of  St.  Aignan,  who, 
with  fiendish  jo}^,  could  think  of  perishing  with  a 
world,  while  yet  in  the  act  of  draining  the  Intoxicating 
cup  of  sin. 

They  closed  the  window  and  drew  the  heavy  silk 
curtafns  over  it.  A  sigh  escaped  her  lips;  it  was  at 
the  thought  of  the  long  hours  of  darkness  which  wiere 
still  before  her. 


<&H'iitnfe-i-'i':'' 


•| '-l..^i-1-Tll 


^Mm 


■ii}tftai'kSaMeAitvfi'<«fffitril^>«^'=i^^^^ 


-:  -       '  I'HE    GHOST  279 

/'■■--■-       -    ■    .   ■  •       ■   .      ■    -  ;■  " 

Then    the    secret    door    noiselessly    opened    by  the 

pressure  of  a  spring. 

t'  But  at  the  same  moment,  a  cry   escaped  Angellne's 

lips — the  ghostly   apparition  stood    on  the    threshold. 

The  ghost  had  entered — the    ample,  white   robe  fell 

,-   -      off,  and  before    the    duchesse,  who  was    trembling    in 

'f;  '      every  limb,   stood — St.  Aignan. 

^]  The  duchesse    stood  in    bewilderment,    scarcely  dar- 

ing to  trust  her  own  eyes,  as  if  turned  to  stone, 
i  St.  Aignan  sank  on  one   knee  before  her  and  said  in 

his  peculiar,  caressing  tone:  "Pardon,  divine  Angeline, 
^  a  double  pardon.  First,  for  having  frightened  you, 
wonderful  creature,  and  secondly,  for  having  dared — " 
"Merciful  God,"  faltered  Angeline  in  astonishment, 
glowing  with  blushes.  "Merciful  God!  suppose  the 
king-"  ; 

"We  are  safe  from  him,"  replied  St.  Aignan  smiling, 
as  he  still  knelt  before  Angeline.  "The  king  is  ill 
and  has  gone  to  bed. " 

"But  who  authorized  you  to  enter   here?" 
"Who,  Angeline?"  cried    St.  Aignan,    passionately, 
"who  save  my  own  ardent    heart!     Forgive   me,  heav- 
enly creature,  I  cannot  help  it!  The  most  passionate, 
'  fervent  love  consumes  me.     Let    me  be    happy — or — 

perish  at  your  feet!"  .^ 

;  Angeline  trembled  like  an  aspen  leaf.    A  mist  came 

before  her  eyes. 

"Angeline,"  repeated  St.  Aignan  Imploringly,  still 
kneeling  at  her  feet. 


SlSr:nii^SSSSsm^-.mSm$hiX^rir.-iiriti!it,t^  a!r-'ift,sSkit-ir  hii^i  rTatii"  ■■;  '  ..  .^ „^aJL,m^^.^ . 


r   .-"-  _^;t  J  ^^t^Wf'^^^^^^S^T^^^^f^^^"^^^?^'^'^'^^^^'    '  -^'^^T^ 


280  A    ROVAL    ROBBER 


■„   J- 


"Rise!"  said  the  latter,  drawing  back.  i     '". 

"Not  until  I  know  that  you  will  pardon  my  presump- 
tion." 

"OhI  God!  oh!  God!"  faltered  the  duchesse,  "if 
any  one  should  hear  us — if   the  king  sho'uld  learn — " 

"He  will  not.  At  the  utmost,  it  will  only  be  an- 
other appearance  of  the  ghost."  . 

"And  you?" 

"Yes,  y,  /  have  phi}  ed  it  this  time;  but  it  is  no  evil 
spirit  that  has  come  to  you  at  this  hour,  fairest  of  the 
fair,  but  the  spirit  of  love!  Dearest,  let  us  be  happy, 
and  the  world  and  all  else  can  crumble  into  ruin." 

"Do  not  blaspheme!  "  cried  Angeline.  "Let  us 
think  of  our  sins,  not  commit  new  ones.      Rise!" 

St.  Aignan  rose.  Angeline  drew  her  light  robe  close 
around  her.  The  former  eagerly  extended  his  arms 
and  was  about  to  clasp  the  charming  beauty  in  a  fer- 
vent embrace,  when  boih  started  back  as  if  a  thunde> 
bolt  had  fallen. 

Again  a  low  voice  vvas  heard. 

"Merciful  God!  "  murmured  Angeline,  turning  deadly 
pale,  "we  are  lost  — the  king!" 

^  A  livid  pallor  overspread  the  countenance  of  her 
companion.  One  moment  more  and  their  lives  would 
be  forfeited. 

St.  Aignan  instantly  thought  of  all  this.  His  eyes 
moved  swiftly  around  the  room,  and  the  next  moment 
the  heavy  silk  curtains  that  draped  the  nearest  window 
concealed  him. 


liM'fili'^^ffi'^'-i'MT^YiSrtii^i'iil'I'fc'fihifrT^ 


^  '     THE  GHOST  *  28 1 

Angel ine  clung  trembling  to  the  nearest  chair. 

Again  the  secret  door  opened,  and  again  Angeline 
almost  fainted — the  white,  ghostly  apparition  stood 
on  the  threshold. 

But  this  time  it  was  the  right  one — for  Angeline 
gazed  in  horror  at  Gauthier's  pale,  livid  face. 

"Gauthier?"  escaped  her  lips  in  a  tone  of  mingled 
surprise  and  terror. 

"Yes,"  replied  a  hollow  voice,  slowly  and  solemnly — 
"I  am  Gauthier!" 

Angeline  passed  her  hand  over  her  brow,  on  which 
thick  drops  of  cold  perspiration  were  standing.  Then 
summoning  all  her  courage,  she  cried,  making  the 
sign  of  the  cross: 

"In  the  name  of  God  the  Father.  God  the  Son,  and 
God  the  Holy  Ghost,  if  thou  art  a  spirit  avaunt  from 
me!" 

But  the  figure  remained  quiet  and  motionless. 

Angeline  tried  not  to  faint.  She  tottered,  her  arms 
fell  by  her  side  as  if  petrified. 

"You  are  mistaken,  Madame  la  Duchesse!"  said  the 
figure,  in  a  trembling  voice,  but  with  a  sharp,  cutting 
emphasis.  ''It  is  no  ghost,  but  a  man  that  stands  be- 
fore you."  * 

"Impossible!" 
'    "It  may  be  wonderful;    but   that  it  is    possible,  you 
see!" 

"Then  I  have  been  deceived.  Gauthier  de  Montfer- 
rand  did  not—" 


rSfauzi<iS»iiS:i«a 


^Si&^Shi^l^^ 


^'«''=^^*'=!w''P*'''!?"'*?7?P5^!"*T^^ 


282  '  A    ROYAI,    ROBBER 

"When  your  faithlessness,  your  shame,  Madame  la 
Duchesse,  broke  his  heart,  he  tried  to  put  a  bullet 
through  his  brain  beneath  your  window."  ' 

Angeline  turned  away  and  covered  her  face  with  her 
hands.  The  figure  turned  its  back  upon  the  door 
through  which  it  had  entered,  and  which  still  remained 
open. 

No  one  in  the  room  perceived  that  the  king,  Louis 
XIV,  was  now  standing  behind  it. 

The  news  that  the  ghost  had  again  appeared  in  the 
palace  had  induced  him,  though  ill,  to  leave  his  bed, 
in  order,  followed  at  a  distance  by  several  armed  men, 
to  examine  the  apparition  in  person.  1 

"The  bullet,"  continued  the  figure  quietly,  "did  not 
kill  me,  though  I  was  supposed  to  be  dead  when  car- 
ried from  the  spot — It  did  not  kill  me;  but  the  wou-id 
was  so  dangerous  that  for  months  I  hovered  between 
life  and  death. "  .  .■         ' 

"Oh!  thank  God,  Gauthier,"  cried  Angeline,  "your 
death  was  a  terrible  reproach  to  me!" 

"Calm  yourself,  Mc.dame  la  Duchesse,"  continued 
the  figure,  "calm  j^ourself — I  shall  not  take  the  re- 
proach from  your  heart.  True,  the  wound  has  healed 
but  the  shot  will  still  cost  me  my  life — my  health  is 
destroyed — ^I  am  tottering  towards  the  grave." 

"Do  not  talk  so,  Gauthier,"  pleaded  Angeline,  "live 
for  your  mother."  ; 

"My  mother  is  dead!"  "  | 

"Then  think  of  yourself ! "  | 


-r'>'aSffBfe'mt"ifflir-'fi--f'--Tl''ii-iTF.i-ni-^^^^^^^^^^^ 


\:-  /:  , 
"  '  THE    GHOST  283 

"I,  too,  am  dead  to  this  world,  although  I  still  drag 
cut  a  miserable  existence.  What  could  the  world 
have  for  me,  while  what  was  highest,  most  sacred, 
dearest  to  me,  lies  in  the  dust." 

"Gauthier?" 

"I  shall  soon  die — and  willingly!  But  before  my 
poor,  crushed,  weary  heart  can  lie  down  to  its  last  re- 
pose, I  have  undertaken  one  commission — and  to  per- 
form this  commission  I  now  stand  here.  It  is  to  ap- 
pear before  you,  Madame  la  Duchesse!" 

Gauthier  paused,  and  then  said  in  an  inexpressibly 
sorrowful  tone:  "Before  yau,  Angeline,  to  entreat  you 
to  turn  back  from  the  path  of  sin  to  the  way  of  right 
and  virtue.  For  this  object  I  wore  a  mask; — for  how 
else  could  I  approach  you?" 

"Impossible!     In  Loches  It  was — " 

"Gauthier  de  Montferrand,   as  well  as  here." 

"But  the  king  himself  followed  the  apparition  to 
Agnes  Sorel's  monument,  where  the  ghost — " 

"Thanks  to  the  precaution  of  the  priests  of  the  church 
of  Loches,  vanished  without  leaving    a  trace    behind, 
through  one   of   the    confessionals    behind  the    monu- 
ment, which  has  a  concealed  entrance  to  the  crypt." 

Angeline  sank  Into  a  chair  and  covered  lier  face  with 
both  hands. 

"But  how  was  poor  Gauthier  to  reach  the  proud, 
beautiful  Duchesse  de  Fontanges,  revelling  in  pleas- 
ure and  gayety,  pomp  and  splendor!" 

"Gauthier!" 


iHBBi£"#iiBit8iS'riT5'rr--"'-*»^-— -"-'—■'^■^■-•^•-•^^^^      -^*^!^'«^i.-i'^g^.^!aia^wt||;niTsyaf^^ 


284   ■-':■'''  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  '     .  '   [ 

"The  steps  of  the  throne,  where, — forgetting  the  ad- 
monition of  her  poor  deserted  mother,  the  holy  lessons 
of  her  faithful,  gray -haired  teacher,  God,  virtue  and 
her  own  salvation — Angeline  de  Fontanges,  in  the  arms 
of  a  king — "  1    - 

Louis  XIV    started,    his    eyes  flashed    witii    anger,    ^ 
but  he  again  forced   himself  to  keep    silence  until  he 
had  heard  all.  I 

"I  cannot  utter  the  words!"  continued  Gauthier 
gloomily,  "let  your  conscience  speak  instead.  But  I 
longed,  I  resolved  to  reach  3^ou,  Madame  la  Duchesse, 
Money,  so  much  I  had  already  learned  at  court — money 
is  the  ke}'  to  everything  in  the  world.  I  therefore 
sold  all  I  possessed,  even  our  little  ancestral  castle, 
and  in  company  with  Pere  Hilaire,  set  about  execut- 
ing my  last  life-task."  1 

"Yes!"  muttered  Louis  XIV,  "it  shall  indeed  be 
your  last. "  !         }^/' 

"We  tried  for  a  long  time  in  vain,  "continued  Gau- 
thier, "then  the  court  went  to  Loches,  where  Pere  - '-^i 
Hilaire  had  an  old  acquaintance  among  the  priests. 
All  else  that  I  needed  to  obtain  the  possibility  of  ap- 
proaching you,  Madame  la  Duchesse,  I  obtained  there,  . 
as  here,  by  lavish  bribes.  Men  will  do  everything 
for  money.  They  will  betray  God,  and  their  king,  nay, 
— sell  themselves."  1 

"Gauthier,  Gauthier!"  cried  Angeline  in  agony,  still 
covering  her  face  with  her  hands.  n    - 

-     "Even  the  key  to  the  secret  passage  that  leads  from 


iSda&^^^Mi^&iM^Q^ 


•-s*    v^j«"i9r«^»»52;    s   --— ---s'-iji'^^J-- 


THE   GHOST  v  285 

the  king's  apartments  hither,  even   this  precious  key 
' — was  to  be  bought." 

The  king  ground  his  teeth  and  then  murmured: 
V        "But   the    guilty    ones    will  yet    pay  dearly    for  it. 
-.  The  price  is — the  Bastile!" 

"But  it  was  not  only  the  key,  I  was  also  obliged  to 
"^remove  the  guards.  Here,  however,  it  was  useless  to 
attempt  bribery — and  therefore  I  was  obliged  to  pave 
my  way  by  fear  and  superstition.  Now,  Madame  la 
Duchesse,  you  know  how  and  why  I  came  to  you  as  a 
ghost.  Had  any  other  way  been  possible,  a  man  like 
me,  who  already  has  one  foot  in  the  grave^  would  have 
scorned  such  mummery. " 

Gauthier  paused  a  moment.  Angeline  sobbed  quietly 
— there  was  no  movement  behind  the  curtain — the  king 
stood  motionless  before  tl\e  door,  anger  and  vengeance 
were  throned  on  his  brow. 

"And  now, "  continued  Gauthier,  after  a  slight  pause, 
"now,  Madame  la  Duchesse,  the  dying  man  calls  upon 
y^ou  to  remember  the  vow  you  once  made  to  God, 
your  poor,  deserted  mother  and  Pere  Hilaire.  He 
^  reminds  you  of  the  dream  the  Eternal  One  once  sent 
you." 

Angeline' s  head  was  bowed  on    her  hands    and  she 

■  sobbed  convulsivel3\ 

Gauthier  fell  on  his  knees  at  her  feet.  "Angeline! " 
he  cried,  in  a  tone  trembling  with  agony.     Hear  the 

■  voice  of  a    dying  man!     I    ask    nothing,    nothing    for 
;/  myself — I  only  wish   to  save  your  soul,  to  rescue   you 


ifcfeJfeiJ5JlMJ3iaa.!&££;5::^^£»;g^£feBfe^4i.^^^^ 


pwfTjf J , wi  i!'i  I ,  „  I  ilAii iii!,p(jp||p»f WPywivv- 'Sf JCj'"*'!?g®^^W'wgS4*«5^-^T^^ 


286    :  -   "  .  A   ROYAL   ROBBER  "  |        ]'' 

from  the  horrors  of  the  future.  Turn  back,  Angeline, 
turn  back  to  the  path  of  virtue,  back  to  the  arras  of 
your  poor  deserted  mother,  who  is  weeping  herself 
blind  for  her  lost  child.  You  have  fallen  low,  low 
indeed,   but  the  mercy  of  God  is  infinite." 

Gauthier  paused;  Angeline  still  wept,  but  did  not 
move. 

"Angeline!"  cried  the  yoath  again,  while  his  voice 
trembled  with  secret  emotion.  "Angeline,  cast  your 
vain  baubles  from  you!  The  king — " 

"He  loves  me!"  sobbed  Angeline  through  her  tears, 
"and  I  return  his  love!"     * 

"But  your  love  is  sin,  the  king  is  married!"         ! 

"And  even  if  it  were  a  sin — it  is  still  love." 

"No!"  cried  Gauthier  rising,  while  his  eye  gleamed 
forth  from  his  pallid  face  with  a  ghastly,  supernatural 
brillianc}',  "no,  it  is  not  love  that  binds  you  to  the 
king,  Madame  la  Duchesse,  but  base  vanity.  The 
king  loves  you?  Oh!  yes,  to-day — to-morrow,  perhaps 
even  day  after  to-morrow!  But  he  will  soon  grow 
weary  of  you,  as  he  has  of  so  many  others  and  then, 
then,  he  will  cast  you  aside,  like  them,  to  bewail 
your  folly  in  perpetual  misery  and  despair!" 

"No!  no!"  cried  Angeline,  "the  king  is  not  capable 
of  such  conduct  towards  me." 

"No!"  cried  a  loud  voice  at  the  same  moment,  "he 
is  not  capable  of  it!" 

Angeline  shrieked  aloud,  Gauthier  started  and  turned 
— the  king  stood  before  them.  \ 


■1 1    '  '   "-■';", '  lu-i  i-tf-"v'''''ni>TVirf-fcTriif-i;ii'f;a:i'f.a^ 


r  *  THE  GHOST  287 

The  king  made  a  sign  and  Captain  de  Torcy  entered 
:    with  the  guard. 

"Arrest  this  man!"  said  the  king,  "and  take  him  to 
J      the  Bastile!" 

"You  will    answer  for    his    safety  with    your  head," 
^    continued  the  king  sternly.     "He  has,  as  he  says  him-  — 
•      self,  one  foot  in  the  grave — so  it  will   be  easy  for  the 

other  to  follow."  , 

'    '      De  Torcy  moved  forward,  but    the  old  warrior    tot- 
:  tered. 

Gauthier  stood  with  his  figure  drawn   up  to  its  full 

height.     He  cast  one  grave,  warning  glance  at  Ange- 

line,  a  look    of  admiration,  of    eternal    farewell,  then 

followed  the  guard  with  a  firm,  steady  step.  "»  . 

"Angeline!"  said  the  king  gentl)',  "I  have  heard  all. 

-    You  are    innocent,  my    child;  you    love  me  truly  and 

;      faithfully,  and  your  king    will  be  true  and    faithful  to 

you.   Forget  the  fanatic  and  go  to   rest.     You   need  it 

_  after  this  agitating  hour,  and  if  you   should  ever  have 

occasion  to  complain  of  me,  remind  me  of  it." 

He  kissed  Angeline  on    the    forehead    and    left  the 
room. 


Wrr'^r-''iiJlS#'i^tt>i!TiSi^i«ifiif-i'Tfi#r^^ 


srV' %-''r-^^SSp!^!jS^J;;--^ 


■A   .- 


PART  IV.  i  s: 

IN  EXILE.  i 

i 

-  I 

CHAPTER  V. 

,  t 

THE    DISCOVERY.  \      , 

A  wondrous  summer  night  brooded  over  the  earth. 
''The  air  was  soft  and  mild,  the  pine  forests  sent  forth 
a  delicious  fragrance,  at  once  balmy  and  spicy,  and 
the  moon  shone  so  brightly  that  the  magnificent  land- 
scape was  plainly  revealed  to  the  eyes  .of  the  traveler, 
who  descending  from  the  heights,  gazed  thoughtfully 
at  the  scene. 

It  was  a  wildly  romantic  region;  mountain  peak 
rose  above  mountain  peak,  now  covered  with  countless 
pines,  crowded  together  like  an  army  ready  for  battle, 
— now  bare  and  barren,  crowned  by  strangely  formed 
masses  of  rock,  that  gazed  like  hostile  spirits  into 
the  silent  night.  Ah!  it  was  no  marvel  that  the  sol- 
itary traveler  stood  lost  in  reverie;  the  whole  region 
seemed  to  dream  of  ancient  times,  of  centuries  that 
had  vanished  long  ago. 

Hugo  von  Zedlitz  gazed    over    the    wide  plain    to- 

388 


L^assiiiii^ak&!i-^ii£SSiS^^^iSSti>^Si££SS^Sli^£ji^Siiid^ 


.     - —  THE    DISCOVERY  2S9 

wards  the  spot  where  flowed  his  beloved  native  river; 
the  spot  where  Strassburg's  ancient  cathedral  rose 
gravely  and  silently,  and  where  lived  the  lovely,  inno- 
cent girl,  for  whom  his  heart  throbbed  so  warmly,  so 
faithfully,  so  loyally. 

Months  had  passed  since  he  had  seen  Alma,  and  he  had 
suffered  during  that  time,  both  mentally  and  physically. 

He  first  went  to  Heidelberg,  hoping  to  remain  for 
a  time  with  some  relatives  and  work  for  his  native 
city.  But  even  this  vague  hope  was  instantly  cut  off, 
as  his  relatives — not  crediting  his  statement  and  put- 
ting an  evil  construction  on  his  flight — received  him 
coldly  and  repellantly. 

He  could  stay  no  longer  in  Heidelberg,  as  his 
slender  means  would  not  suffice,  Yet  he  did  not  wish 
to  go  far  away  from  Strassburg.  At  last  he  remem- 
bered a  school-friend,  who  lived  in  Breisgan. 

Thus  Hugo  von  Zedlitz  set  out,  but  as  he  wished 
to  remain  unknown,  he  wore  the  Alsatian  peasant  cos- 
tume, with  which  Wenck  had  provided  him  at  the 
time  of  his  flight. 

His  disguise  proved  very  necessary;  for  during  the 
first  days  of  his  journe}^,  a  rumor  reached  his  ears 
that  French  and  Alsatian  spies  were  on  the  track  of 
a  young  citizen  of  Strassburg,  who  had  preached 
high-treason  and  rebellion  againist  France. 

When  he  reached  Freiburg  and  sought  his  friend, 
he  learned  that  the  latter  had  died  a  few  weeks  be- 
fore.    So  this  hope  was  destroyed. 

/£)     Rubhir 


■^^^^^^^^^aSteSi^aasiia^iieBitei^^  J■^J.s,ii^ta.i^^ism^.ai^^ 


^■H^o  ■--,*--'•:''     --,-,  ^.'^ -^■^^r^'^'^^w^^^'^'w^^^^'^rw^'^^- 


2gO  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  I 

Hugo  found  temporary  shelter  with  a  lawyer;  but, 
though  he  did  not  mind  frequent  struggles  with  actual 
want,  he  could  not  endure  the  thought  of  being  com- 
pletely cut  off  from  his  native  city  and  deprived  of  all 
opportunity  to  vindicate  himself  by  some  patriotic 
deed. 

At  last  Hugo  could  no  longer  bear  to  remain  so  far 
from  Strassburg,  whose  freedom  and  existence  he 
knew  were  continually  threatened.  His  resolution 
was  quickly  formed,  quickly  executed,  and — this  night 
he  had  already  advanced  so  near  his  goal  that,  with 
a  throbbing  heart,  he  could  recognize  in  the  distance 
the  spot  where  his  beloved  city  stood. 

Hugo  von  Zedlitz  had  already  been  on  his  feet  two 
days  and  two  nights,  resting  very  little  in  the  mean- 
time. So  it  was  natural  that  he  was  soon  overpowered 
by  fatigue,  to  which  two  worse  , companions,  hunger 
and  thirst,  were  now  added.  Just  at  that  moment  a 
miserable  little  inn  appeared  in  the  gray  dawn  as  he 
turned  a  bend  in  the  road,  an  inn  before  which  a  lazy, 
sleep}'  servant  was  feeding  the  horses  of  a  wagon  la- 
den with  goods. 

"Good-morning,  my  friend,"  said  the  young  man, 
pale  and  weak  with  hunger,  as  he  tottered  wearily 
forward. 

The  servant  looked  at  him  with  half-closed  eyes, 
but  was  too  sleepy  to  answer. 

"Can  I  have  something  to  eat?"  continued  Hugo,    i 

"They're  all  asleep,"  said  the  fellow  sulkily. 


t&,:i^&i^i',Jii„iiL.  ''■'ii^r-i^4&^Sf»rTi¥T^%r.^»iff-'#^ 


THE    DISCONERY  29I 

Hugo  collected  the  last  small  coins  in  his  pocket 
and  threw  them  on  ihe  stone  table  before  the  bouse, 
so  that  the}^  rattled  loudly. 

"Will  bread  and  cheese  do?"  asked  the  man. 

"Very  well!"  replied  the  tired  traveler,  sitting  down 
on  the  stone  bench  beside  the  table — "and  a  drink  of 
water." 

Hugo  was  quickly  served.  The  scanty  meal  re- 
freshed him,  only  fatigue  would  scarcely  let  him  enjo}' 
it;  his  eyes  almost  closed. 

Even  the  servant,  who,  meantime,  had  been  attend- 
ing to  the  carter  and  his  wagon,   noticed  it. 

"I  suppose  you  are  tired  and  would  like  to  rest  a 
while?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,"  leplied  Hugo,  "but  I  suppose  the  whole 
house  is  locked. " 

"But  not  the  hay-mow  close  by,"  said  the  man 
laconically,  pulling  his  cap  over  his  face  and  entering 
the  inn. 

This  hint  was  enough  for  Hugo.  He  mounted  the 
ladder  leaning  against  the  adjoining  barn  and  threw 
himself,  unheeding  the  cool  morning  air,  upon  the  hay. 

A  few  minutes  after  Hugo  von  Zedlitz  was  sound 
asleep. 

But  what  a  slumber  it  was.  Nature  demanded  her 
rights  and  the  young  body  gave  them  in  fullest  meas- 
ure. 

The  servant  had  gone  to  the  city  to  do  some  er- 
rands early  in  the    morning,    and  as  he  had    told  no- 


■|A^^i^,■ai^,'!fWillm^&rl'4l^tlllr^i•^}\if;^f^  nf-  IfStit^SSIlXPtetirtMtmtraitf--^^^-'^''^  ■ 


-  -Tr^*^«Tr~)r!r' 


292  A  ROYAL  ROBBER 

body  about  the  young  man  asleep  in  the  barn,  no  one 
knew  anything  about  him.  Business  had  not  been 
brisk  during  the  day  and  not  until  afternoon  did  a 
few  monks  and  soldiers  arrive. 

The  sun  was  setting  when  Hugo  was  awakened  from 
his  deep  slumber  by  loud  singing.  He  opened  his  eyes 
in  astonishment  and  at  first  could  not  understand  where 
he  was. 

Soon  memory  returned,  and  with  it,  the  recollection 
'  of  what  had  occurred  during  the  past  night  and  morn- 
ing. 

Through  a  chink  in  the  boards  he  perceived,  close 
at  hand,  the  miserable  inn.  There  was  the  stone  table 
where  he  had  taken  his  frugal  breakfast,  and  here  he  was 
lying  on  the  hay-mow,  where  he  had  slept  till  sunset. 

But  what  was  going  on  below  close  by  the  barn? 

To  whom  did    the    harsh    voices,    proceeding  from 

throats  somewhat  too  well  moistened,  belong?  They 
were  soldiers'  and  rogues'  songs,  sung  amid  peals  of 
laughter  and — sometimes  in  the  French  language. 

He  turned  softly  and  moved  nearer  the  old  board 
wall  of  the  barn. 

Close  beside  the  barn  stood  a  huge  linden,  beneath 
which  tables  and  benches  had  been  placed,  and  around 
these  universal  gayety  prevailed. 

Monks  and  soldiers  sat  drinking  and  singing,  while 
a  red-cheeked  girl,  ruddy  with  health,  brought  them 
wine  in  huge  mugs. 

The   giri  was    really    pretty,  only    her    beauty    was 


1 

i'A*riirii<i'ir^?r*"irl~'r'-~'yrii1iftf'fiifeif^  "1       i"'--'-iT'-'Ti"r  "rT'r'S^'-'"- 


*'■■■-    i^afeffiiii^iTffliiiiwiT 


,  "?5<::=?'"i»tfii, rw^-s.fp'  -  '■^w^^jp*.' 


THE    DISCOVERY  293 

somewhat  coarse,  like  her  whole  nature.  She  laugh- 
ingly gave  still  ruder  answers  to  the  rude  jests  of  the 
monks  and  soldiers, and,  when,  in  the  universal  hilarity, 
one  of  the  friars  pulled  her  into  his  lap,  gayly  sub- 
mitted and  even  jestingly  returned  his  kisses. 

But  a  fresh  shout  rang  out  when  one  of  the  soldiers 
— evidently,  as  his  French  accent  showed,  an  Alsatian 
from  the  French  frontier — raised  his  mug  and  in  a 
harsh  voice  began  to  sing. 

One  of  the  monks,  v/ho  had  apparently  held  aloof 
from  the  drinking  as  much  as  possible,  made  a  sign 
to  a  soldier.  After  exchanging  a  few  words,  both 
moved  noiselessly  towards  the  place  where  the  ladder 
rested  against  the  barn. 

Hugo  was  very  much  startled. 

The  monk  pointed  to  the  bay-loft  where  the  exile 
was  concealed,  and  the  soldier  nodded  assent. 

Had  they  heard  of  him?  Had  the  servant  betrayed 
him?  He  certainly  had  not  been  seen.  Or  did  acci- 
dent bring  them  to  the  spot? 

He  dared  not  show  himself  and  then — there  was  but 
one  way  of  getting  down -and  this  was  by  means  of 
the  ladder  the  two  were  just  preparing  to  ascend. 

Hugo  heard  one  after  another  step  on  the  ladder. 
There  was  not  another  moment  to   lose. 

Quickly  as  a  flash  of  lightning,  he  darted  under  the 
hay  which  was  piled  high  in  one  corner,  v. hile  only  a 
few  bundless  lay  In  the  others.  He  had  scarceh'  time 
to  roll  two  of  them  over  to  conceal  his  head,  without 


I^^^t^ 


294   .  A   ROYAL  ROBBER 


running  the  risTc  of  being  suffocated  when  the  monk 
entered,  followed  by  the  soldier. 

"There,"  said  the  former,  "now  we  can  talk  over  the 
other  matters  undisturbed."  I  . 

"Well,  what's  to  be  done  now?"  asked   the   soldier. 

"You  are  ordered  here?" 

"Yes."  I 

"Well,  you  haven't  been  wanting  in  punctuality." 

"A  soldier  is  accustomed  to  that." 

"And  to  obedience,"  observed  the  monk.  "So  are 
we." 

"Obedience  to  our  superiors." 

"That  is  our  duty  also.      We  too  form  an  army." 

The  soldier  laughed  scornfully,  then  replied:  "Yes, 
an  army  of  cowls." 

"We  are  the  soldiers  of  God,  the  champions  of  the 
church." 

"Maybe  so,"  cried  the  soldier,  "for  my  part,  I  pre- 
fer the  sword  to  the  cross." 

"The  best  way  is:  for  sword  and  cross  to  fight  with 
and  beside  each  other,  for  one  and  the  same  good 
cause,  our  Holy  Mother  Church." 

The  monk  crossed  himself  devoutly,  the  soldier  fol- 
lowed his  example,  but  did  not  seem  to  fully  agree 
with  the  remark.  , 

"I  think,"  he  said,  "it  is  still  better  for  each  to 
keep  his  own  place.  We  know  how  to  strike  with 
the  sword,  you,  holy  Father,  understand  prayers, 
masses    and    confessions;    but — deuce    take    it,    how 


--ii^^fe»frji->,..>^  _-  '^^s.  ■•   -'-^--    ■-"      .',■    -^rV"^>'^iit^Vi'f'-"'-r'^:rrVVrifySi^V^P^;ffl^i^'^B 


i«W»»'f"',^ -!■*-»■" 


'V-T  ^     *      ' 

'    -  .  THE    PISCOVERY  295 

V      would  it  look  If  I  were  put  in  a  cowl  and  you  in    the 
.;        king's  coat." 

f  "Perhaps  not  so  badly  as  you  imagine.** 

■  "You  are  jesting,  Father." 

"It  might  be  put  to  the  test."  • 

"Devil  take...." 
'  "Calm  yourself." 

"Speak  plainly.  What's  the  meaning  of  all  the 
|;  mystery  with  which  we  were  sent  here  by  secret 
;{       roads?" 

"Are  you  and  your  men  good  catholics?" 
,,      "Yes!" 

"Do  you  serve  His  Majesty,  the    King  of  France?" 

"Yes. " 

"Well  then,  you    will    cheerfully,  aside    from  your 
;         military  duty,  as  good    catholics,    brave    soldiers,  and 
Frenchmen,  do  what  the   king,  your    commander    and 
holy  Mother  Church  desire!" 

"But  what's    the    use    of    these    by-ways!     Put    us 
where  blows  are  dealt  and  we'll  know  how  to  use    our 

-  swords.      We  don't  care  for  blood  even  If   it    flows    in 
streams." 

;  ;  The  monk  drew  a  parchment  from  his  breast. 

:^       '     "Read!  "  he  said,  holding  it  out  to  the  soldier. 

"Let  the  devil  read  it,"    replied    the    latter,  "if    he 
can  make  out  the  letters." 

"At  least,  you  know  the  signature?" 

"Who  doesn't  know  the  signature  of    the    Minister 

-  ol  War,  the  Marquis  de  Louvois?  " 


=^iS^^^^S^Miis£^^^i^lf^if&Li^}^^ 


■-T*?*--  -  -     '    ■ ;   ^'^:^'^-'-y^7^^i^^^^' 


296  A    ROYAL    KOBBER 


"Then  hear  what  the  order  says." 

And  the  monk  read  an  order  from  Louvois,  accord- 
ing to  which  the  soldiers  sent  to  this  place  were  to 
render  implicit  obedience  to  Father  Ren^,  a  deputy  of 
the  Bishop  of  Strassburg. 

"Calm  yourself,"  said  Father  Ren6,  perceiving  the 
unpleasant  impression  this  communication  produced 
upon  his  companion — "I  shall  ask  nothing  of  you 
which  will  conflict  with  your  honor  as  a  soldier.  On 
the  contrary,  you  and  your  comrades  are  to  perform 
a  service  by  which  you  will  earn  the  thanks  of  your 
king  and  the  church."  '      , 

"And  that  is?" 

"You  are  to  help  His  most  Christian  Majesty  to 
conquer  that  nest  of  heretics,  Strassburg." 

"I'm  listening." 

"Do  you  know  Strassburg?" 

"No." 

"Well,  that  will  donoharm— I'll  guide  you  myself." 

"To  Strassburg?"  : 

"Yes,  but  first  listen  to  me."  , 

"Speak." 

"We  are  bare-footed  monks,  as  you  Me." 

The  other  nodded. 

"Well,  our  monastery — one  of  the  oldest  in  Strass- 
burg and  now  the  only  one  in  the  accursed  nest  of 
heretics  — is  in  the  heart  of  the  city."  1 

"Well,  and  what's  to  be  done  with  the  monastery?" 

"Why,  I  just    told    you;    in    the    monastery    of  the 


A^.:i&^l!^.=^Ui2SiX-ic,^:^i^^iiliBi^^ 


THE    DISCOVERY  297 

bare-footed  monks,  which  is  under  the  bishops  sole 
control,  everything  can  be  arranged  as  we  please.  So 
by  degrees  troops  will  be  smuggled  in,  of  which  you 
have  the  honor  of  being  the  first.  When  there  are 
enough — well,   that  you'll  learn  afterwards." 

"But  will  they  allow  us  to  pass  the  city  gates?" 

"Not  as  French  troops  certainly." 

"Then  how  are  we  to  get  in?"  < 

"By  stratagem.  Down  in  the  inn  lies  a  large  bag 
which  we  brought  with  us.      Guess  what  is  in  it." 

"How  can  I?" 

"Gowns  for  six  bare-footed  monks." 

"And  what's  to  be  done  with  them?" 

"You  will  slip  into  them — " 

"Never'"  cried  the  other,  starting  up  and  pulling  his 
beard  defiantl3^  "Zounds  do  you  suppose  we're  going 
to  creep  in  in  cowls?      We  are  soldiers,  not  priests. 

"You  are,"  said  the  monk  quietly,  "good  catholics, 
brave  soldiers,  and  have  sworn  to  obey  }  our  command- 
er. Will  you  by  resistance  call  down  upon  your 
heads  the  curse  of  the  church?  Will  3'ou  refuse  to 
obey  the  Minister  of  War,  and  also  your  master  and 
king?" 

The  man  was  silent;  but  it  was  evident  that  he  was 
passing  through  a  severe  mental  struggle. 

The  monk  said  kindly: 

"You  see  how  your  men  are  singing  and  carousing 
below.  They  are  nothing,  for — you  are  their  soul. 
That  is  why  I  have  applied  to  you.      You  must    think 


v-»».3iArjjje»c,r5SS^?-^Mpi.r«i255i^J5l^5^     -    '_~r  -"-s^ 


298  A   ROYAL  ROBBER  , 

for  them  and  induce  them  to  act.  His  Majesty  and 
the  bishop  will  value  you  accordingly.  And  if  we 
succeed  in  throwing  Strassburg  into  the  king's  hands 
you  will  be  made  men.  Absolved  from  all  the  sins  of 
your  whole  life — and  that's  saying  a  great  deal." 

"Hm,  hm!"  muttered  the  soldier. 

I 

"And  money  and — "  I 

"Will  the  city  be  plundered?" 
"Of  course!     The  inhabitants  are  heretics."         ^ 
"Be  it  so  then,"  cried  the   soldier.      "We    will    put 
on  the  cursed  cowls,  but  only  until — " 
"Until  you  are  in  the  monastery." 
"And  when  do  we  set  out?"  >     '    ' 

"This  very  night,  when  all  are  asleep." 
"Together?"  '      ■    ■     ' 

"God  forbid!  That  would  attract  attention.  They 
keep  a  sharp  eye  on  us  in  the  heretic's  nest."  ~~ 

"How  then?  "  i 

"By  twos.  And  in  such  a  way  that  each  of  us  real 
monks  has  one  of  you  with  him.  We  will  approach 
the  city  by  different  roads  and  to-morrow,  when  it 
grows  dark,  enter  by  different  gates  and  at  various 
hours."  ,  ! 

"Done!"  cried  the  soldier,  clasping  the  hand  the 
monk  extended.  "i 

"Come  down  now,"  said  the  latter,  "and  arrange  the 
business  with  your  men."  •  ^ 

The  monks  soon  departed,  one  of  them  carrying  "1 
large  bag  on  his  back. 


^^^^^MLMs^^^m 


■  ■'-!^SF'r;^;^^^gr'ri''V~~x:^^S!S^^T^^^f^^/rz:na_      -r     .        -i^-  ■"_■•■ 


■■^^~ 


THE    DISCOVERY 


299 


Fifteen  minutes  after  the  soldiers  marched  away 
singing  merrily. 

But  a  young  peasant  also  glided  out  of  the  hay-loft 
and  followed  the  soldiers.  He  was  pale  and  looked 
very  much  agitated. 

Suddenly  he  paused. 

In  an  opening  in  the  forest,  now  illumined  by  the 
moonlight,  a  merry  scene  was  taking  place — it  seemed 
as  if  people  were  preparing  for  a  carnival.  Monks' 
dresses  were  drawn  from  a  bag,  and  amid  jests  and 
laughter,  and  smothered  curses,  put  on  by  the  soldiers. 

The  young  peasant  stood  still  some  time,  listening 
intently;  then  he  too  turned  hastily  towards  S trass- 
burg. 


S  'jSA.^m^i^'j*!^Kjitilif^ 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE   SUPERIOR    OF   THE    FRANCISCANS. 

Quiet  and  still  as  if  lifeless,  the  Franciscan  monas- 
tery stood  in  the  heart  of  busy  Strassburg.  The 
crowds  thronged  around  it,  but  the  surging  torrent 
broke  against  the  gray  old  walls,  gloomy  as  if  mourning 
in  sack  cloth  and  aslies.  like  the  fierce  waves  of  the 
sea  when  they  dash  upon  the  stone  surface  of  a  huge 
cliff. 

The  walls  rose  high  in  the  air,  only  pierced  by  a 
few  small  windows  barred  with  iron,  whose  panes  had 
long  since  grown  dim,  and  behind  which  no  human 
face  ever  appeared.  The  great  iron-bound  gate,  with 
the  figures  of  th(3  apostles  carved  in  oak,  now  black 
with  age,  scarcel}-  permitted  any  human  form  to  slip 
in  or  out  during  the  day,  and  when  this  did  happen 
it  was  a  dirty,  mendicant  monk  in  haircloth  gown 
with  a  rope  around  his  waist  and  sandals  on  his  bare 
feet — a  Franciscan  brother,  who,  according  to  the  rules 
of  his  order,  was  going  out  to  beg. 

The  dull  sound  of  a  bell  echoed  through  the  build- 
ing and  a  few  moments  after  a  small  window  was 
cautiously  opened.      A  monk's  shaven  crown  appeared 

und  a  hoarse  voice  asked  tiie  visitor's  wishes. 

300 


■-:•;/    ,; 


.':■_'  '.      : .  ■  '  ■■•     .-v       '. ... 

'.-     ■'     ''  v 

THE    SUPERIOR    OF   THE    FRANCISCANS  ,      3OI 

•'  "Why!"  said  tlie  boy  wlio  bad  rimg  the  bell,  lookiiig 
at  the  porter  with  a  by  no  means  remarkably  intelli- 
gent expression,  "I'm  to  give  this  letter  to  the 
superior." 

"And  from  whom  does  it  come?" 

"Yon  mnst  see  by  tliaM"  replied  the  ^'outh.  handing 
the   letter  to  the  porter  and  pointing  to  the  seab 

The  movement  revealed  a  pair  of  miiscular  arms 
and  hands  that  seemed  formed  to  use  the  hammer  and 
anvil— at  any  rate  to  deal  blows. 

The  porter  smiled  with  a  well-satisfied  air  as  he 
looked  at  him  and  the  seal. 

The  little  door  beside  the  huge  gate  opened  and  the 
youth,  at  a  sign  from  the  porter,  slipped  through  into 
the  monastery. 

He  was  now  standing  in  a  dark  passage,  leading 
through  the  front  building,  on  either  side  of  which 
stone  saints  frowned  stern  1\'  upon  him.  A  slight 
shiver  ran  through  his  limbs.  He  felt  as  if  he  were  in 
a  half  church,  half  prison,  and  involuntarih'  made  the 
sign  of  the  cross  on  brow  and  breast.  Holding  his 
cap  in  his  hand  and  glancing  timidl}'  around  as  if  he 
feared  at  every  step  to  jostle  some  monk,  who  half 
naked  and  bleeding,  was  scourging  himself  to  death. 
he  followed  the  porter. 

The  dark  passage  was  passed.  A  second  door  at  the 
end  opened  and  the  two  entered  a  spacious  court-yard, 
in  the  center  of  which  stood  the  monastery.  These 
buildings  were  formed  of  huge  stones,  weather  beaten. 


flii'iMi«g}'^#a?Sftfia^fi*-S«^'^'<^!«*^^i»*s^^ 


"-CirC. 


-^s'^5J^7«w^^ 


302 


A    ROYAL    ROBBER 


and  gray  with  age,  and  resembled  a  mediaeval  fortress 
rather  than  a  monastery,  , 

When  the  principal  building  was  reached,  at  a 
signal  made  by  the  porter  with  the  latch,  a  heavy 
bolt  was  pushed  back,  the  door  half-opened,  the  porter 
gave  his  companion  to  the  care  of  a  second  monk, 
exchanging  a  few  words  with  him  and  then  returned  to 
his  post  in  the  front  building,  while  the  porter  of  the 
main  edifice  bolted  the  door  behind  the  visitor  and 
motioned  to  him  to  follow. 

They  walked  through  long,  vaulted  passages,  up 
wide,  stone  steps,  down  dark  corridors,  on  either  side 
of  which,  on  the  right  and  left,  appeared  at  regular 
distances  the  doors  leading  to  the  monks'  cells. 

At  last  the  priest  stopped  before  one  of  the  doors, 
told  the  young  man  to  wait,  and  entered. 

The  youth  repeated  a  "Pater  Noster. "  Then  the 
Franciscan  returned  and  told  him  to  enter  the  Right 
Reverend  Superior's  presence.  , 

The  superior  of  the  Franciscan  Monastery  was 
the  very  ideal  of  a  monk;  not  tall,  but  with  a  muscu- 
lar frame,  firm  outlines  and  a  round,  fat  face,  in  which 
a  certain  repulsive  sensuality  blended  strangely  with 
hypocritical  piety,  while  the  flabby,  wrinkled  cheeks 
as  well  as  the  drooping  corners  of  the  mouth  gave  his 
countenance  the  stamp  of  infinite  weariness.  Yet  at 
times  the  lustreless,  watery  eyes  flashed  with  a  look 
which  might  be  commonplace  malice,  or  the  echo  of 
long-lost  activity  and  energ}'. 


n'?'fe%l-rt^Ti^i^^a>ii#t5ftt^^ 


._  .     -  THE   SUrE  UOR   0|-   THK    FK,\KCISCANS  303 

He  wore  the  coarse  dress  of  the  order,  fastened 
g^round  his  waist  with  a  rope,  and  had  on  his  bare  feet 
old,  dirty  sandals. 

"The  Lord  bless  you,  my  son,"  said  the  superior, 
unctuously. 

The  youth  bowed  with  pious  awe. 

'And  what  do  yon  bring  us?"   asked  the  Franciscan. 

The  young  rnan  handed  the  letter. 

Father  Bartolomeus  took  it;  but  instead  of  opening 
it,  looked  at  the  stout,  vigorous  youth  with  a  well- 
satisfied  smile. 

"How  old  are  J^ou?"  he  asked. 

linn  J.  "         •» 

Twenty-six. 

"A  peasant?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,"  said  the  monk,  "your  arms  are  strong  enough 
for  threshing." 

The  young  man  smiled. 

"Do  you  like  to  deal  blows?" 

"In  case  of  need,  yes!"  said  the  young  peasant,  show- 
ing two  rows  of  magnificent  teeth. 

"And  what  do  you  think  while  you  beat  the  grain  in 
the  threshing  season?" 

The  youth  shook  his  head  as  if  to  repel  the  idea  of 
thought  while  engaged  in  such  an  occupation. 

"Well,"  resumed  the  superior,  patting  him  kindly 
on  the  shoulder,  "I'll  tell  you  what  a  good  catholic 
must  think.  He  must  think  that  the  stalks  lying  be- 
fore him    are  thick-headed  heretics  and  he  is  to  cnish 


Ei&^atiB^fc 


^'¥-«^-;^'?fi;^f^>;i'33f^-Sf^>;l,:^''fr'E=  pf  ■ 


304'  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  ■  i 

..      -  i         " "  - 

them  in  the  name  of  the  holy  Mother  Church.  Then 
he  will  put  all  his  strength  into  the  blows,  and  the 
piff,  paff,  puff — piff;  paff,  puff — will  go  on  merrily." 

The  youth    grinned  again    and  nodded    a    joyful  as- 
*■  sent. 

Father   Bartolomeus  opened   the  letter,  cast  a  hasty 
glance  at  its  contents,  and  then  thrust  it  into  his  pocket. 

"Wliat  are  you  going    to  do  now?  "asked  the  Super- 
ior. 

"Go  back  home,  Reverend  Sir." 

"Where?" 

"To  lilkirch." 

"And  plow,  sow  and  thresh  again?" 
les.  \  - 

"Suppose  the  Lord  had  destined  you  for  something 
greater?" 

The  young,  man  opened  eyes  and  mouth  He  did 
not  understand  what  the  monk  meant. 

"If  Holy  Mother  Church  and  your  Reverend  Bishop 
command  3'ou  to  return  home  to  reap  a  harvest,  that 
will  make  you  acceptable  to  God  above  all  His  ser- 
vants— will  you  obey  like  a  true  servant  and  pious 
Christian?"  ^ 

"If  it  is  harvest  time  and  our  crops  are  ready — why 
noi?"  replied  the  peasant. 

"The  Lord's  harvest  is  always  ready,"  said  the 
f  wperior,  in  a  grave,  dignified  tone,  "but  the  Lord's 
liarvest  is  the  destruction  of  the  heretics." 

"Yes,,  yes,"  replied  the  5outh,  who,  by    dint    of  this 


THE   SUPERIOR   OF   THE   FRANCISCANS      .  505 

fanning  of  the  flame  of  inbred  fanaticism,  began  to 
dimly  comprehend  the  other's  meaning,  and  whose  fist 
instantly  clenched. 

"So  you  will  remain  here  now?" 

"Here?"  exclaimed  the  youth,  evidently  startled. 

"Yes."  replied  the  superior,  "your  bishop,  the  pious 
Franz  Egon,  Prince  of  Furstenberg,  commands  you  to 
do  so,  in  the  name  of  God." 

"But-" 

"You  are  not  to  become  a  monk,  calm  yourself. 
You  are  chosen  by  the  Lord,  with  other  faithful  ser- 
vants, to  perform  a  great  deed  which  will  be  pleasing 
in  His  sight.  You  will  learn  when  the  right  time 
arrives  in  what  it  consists  and  how  it  is  to  be  exe- 
cuted. Now  God  and  the  holy  church,  your  bishop 
and  I  require  from  you  unconditional  obedience.  Will 
you  give  it?  Or  will  you  be  cursed  by  the  church 
and  condemned  forever?"  1 

"Mere}',  mercy!"  cried  the  peasant,  falling  on  his 
knees  before  the  monk,  while  every  feature  expressed 
anxiety  and  terror. 

"So  you  will  obey?" 

"Yes." 

"And  will  you  swear  unconditional  obedience  to  me?" 

"Yes." 

"Then  swear!" 

And  the  Franciscan  with  great  solemnity  and  threat 
of  every  conceivable  punishment,  administered  to     the 

trembling  peasant  the  required  oath. 

so     Rohhrr 


-^'■''■^•■--'';^-^'-'<.f^^-^^^ 


306  A    ROYAL   ROBBER  i 

"There!"  said.  Father  Bartolomeus,  turning  to  the 
monk,  "now  take  him  away  with  you,  he  is  consecrat- 
ed to  the  service  of  the  Lord  and  must  be  strength- 
ened for  the  great  deed  by  the  consolations  of  life." 

The  monk  beckoned  and  the  peasant  followed  him. 
But  the  poor  fellow  felt  by  no  means  at  ease  in  the 
gloomy  monastery.  If  at  hfs  entrance  it  had  seemed 
half  church,  half  prison,  now  in  his  excited  imagination 
it  appeared  wholly  a  dungeon. 

And  in  fact  the  way  by  which  he  was   led    was    not 
calculated    to    dispel    these    terrors.      Once    more    he 
passed  through    long,    gloomy    passages,  down    dark, 
stone  stairs  as  if  descending    into    the    depths  of    the 
earth. 

And  what  was  that?  Was  it  not  a  distant  cry? 
Perhaps  the  moans  of  some  prisoner  or— a  monk 
scourging  himself?  i 

Yet  no.  What  was  it  then?  It  sounded  almost 
like  a  merry  song. 

The  silent  monk  who  led  the  way  glanced  at  the 
astonished  peasant  with  a  smile  of  amusement.  By 
Heavens!  it  sounded  like  a  merry,  drinking  song,  and 
the  noise  grew  louder. 

Suddenl}'  a  cheer  rang  out.  At  the  same  moment 
the  Franciscan  opened  a  heavy  iron  door  and  entered 
a  vaulted  cellar  with  his  companion. 

In  a  vast  cellar,  whose  vaulted  ceiling  rested  on 
short  but  thick  stone  pillars,  and  whose  sides  and  ends 
were  invisible  to  the  new-com.er's  eyes  since  the  faint 


■■  ^r-^f-^^^v^'.y?''*"^^,-; 


-  "      ,    .    ~         THE   SUPERIOR  OF  THE  FRANCISCANS  307 

light  of  the  few  lamps  burning  left  most  of  the  wide 
space  in  perfect  darkness — was  a  motley  assembly  of 
monks  and  soldiers.  ' 

There  were  few  real  m.onks;  but  many  of  the 
soldiers,  as  if  for  a  jest,  wore  the  Franciscan  dress, 
carelessly  thrown  on  so  that  here  sturdy  limbs  clad  in 
leathern  hose  and  huge  boots,  there  a  soldier's 
doublet,  a  portion  of  a  sword,  or  a  broad  shoulder- 
belt,  peeped  forth,  while  others  had  put  on.  above  the 
monkish  gown,  the  round  militar}^  hat    of   the    times. 

At  "the  moment  the  young  peasant  was  ushered  by 
his  companion  through  the  iron  gate  into  this  secret 
monk's  paradise,  and  stood  motionless  with  astonish- 
ment, a  gigantic  cask  of  wine  formed  the  center  of 
the  scene.  Before  it,  his  eyes  radiant  with  happiness, 
sat  the  monk  in  charge  of  the  cellar.  His  face  was 
suffused  with  a  deep,  purple  hue,  his  little  eyes  were 
almost  closed,  but  glistened  with  indescribable  delight. 

If,  instead  of  the  monk's  robe,  a  tiger  skin  had  been 
wrapped  around  his  body,  no  finer  ideal  of  Bacchus 
could  have  been  found.  And  the  worthy  monk  indus- 
triously filled  his  beakers,  handing  them  to  the  other 
pious  brothers  or  soldiers  who  were  half  sitting,  half 
lying  about  on  the  floor  and  smaller  casks.  There 
were  not  a  few  thirsty  throats  here. 

"Hurrah!"  cried  one  of  the  soldiers,  who  seemed  to 
be  of  higher  rank  than  the  rest,  raising  his  mug — 
"Hurrah!  Had  I  known  the  holy  Francis  was  so  good 
a  host,  by  all  the  saints.  I  would  have  donned  the 
cowl  instead  of  taking  the  sword." 


lo8  A    ROYAL    ROBBER 


"Or  that  he  kept  so  good  a  cellar,"  cried  another, 
laughing. 

"All  honor  to  the  holy  Francis,"  said  one  of  the 
monks,  pressing  the  mug  of  wine  he  held  in  his  left 
hand  to  his  heart. 

"Laugh  on--  "said  the  Franciscan  quietly.  "We  are 
accustomed  to  mockery,  like  our  great  model.  What 
is  taking  place  here  to-da}'  is  only  on  account  of  your 
unwashed  faces  and  thirsty  throats.  " 

"Yes,"  added  another,  "we  usually  strictly  follow 
the  example  of  our  illustrious  founder." 

"And  how  did  he  live?"  asked  one  of  the  soldiers 
laughing,  as  he  held  out  his  mug  to    be    filled    again. 

"He  divided    his    property  among    the  poor,"     con- 
tinued the  monk,  "wore  like  us  a  hair    shirt    next    to., 
his  body,  watched,  prayed  and  fasted — " 

Again  the  laugh  burst  forth. 

"Often  went  out  naked  in  the  snow, "  the  monk  went 
on,  "to  mortify  his  flesh,  and  scourged  himself  three 
times  every  night;  once  for  himself,  once  for  the  sin- 
ful world,   and  once  for  the  poor  souls  in    purgatory." 

"The  deuce!"  cried  the  first  speaker,  "once  would 
have  been  enough  for  me." 

"And  I  suppose  you  do  all.  that?"  asked  another,  in 
a  jeering  tone. 
"Certainly!" 

"But,"  cried  a  voice  from  a  corner — "do  you  call  it 
poverty  to  have  such  cellars  full  of  the  best  wine?  Bs"^ 
my  sword,  I  don't  understand  how  that  is  keeping 
the  vow  of  poverty." 


^:.ii:<uirjb££&^!. 


THE   SUPERIOR   OF  THE   FRANCISCANS  309 

"It's  very  simple!"  said  the  monk  who  had  charge 
of  the  wine,  blinking  happily,  "each  of  us  has  taken 
the  vow  of  poverty  for  himself  and  keeps  it  strictly — 
but,  you  simpleton,  that  doesn't  prevent  the  monas- 
tery from  having  property  for  itself." 

"And  so  you,  holy  brothers,  swallow  all  this  mag- 
nificent wine  not  for  yourselves,  but  for  the  monas- 
tery. " 

"May  the  Lord  be  merciful  to  you  sinners,  '  said  the 
monk,  with  difficulty  concealing  his  smile.  "A  drop 
of  wine  rarely  touches  our  tongues.  Only  to-da}^,  and 
in  these  times,  we  regale  you  sinful  men  in  the  name 
of  the  monastery  and  holy  Mother  Church,  to  whoso 
service  you  are  consecrated." 

"Yes" — said  the  monk,  in  whose  charge  the  superior 
had  placed^  the  peasant,    'and  here   is    a    uew   recruit 
He  must  strengthen  himself  here  to-day,  and    to-mor 
row  be  taught  the  military    drill;  he    knows    how    to 
deal  blows  already. " 

"Bravo!"  cried  all. 

But  the  poor  fellow  was  almost  bewildered.  Not 
until  he  had  been  almost  compelled  to  swallow  half  a 
mug  of  wine  did  he  awake  from  his  stupor  and  feel 
a  different  spirit  aroused  within  him. 

The  voices  constantly  grew  harsher,  the  songs  wilder 
the  jests  broader.  It  was  nat  only  the  newly  arrived 
youth  who  now,  with  his  back  resting  against  a  cask, 
and  rigid  limbs,  sat  motionless,  gazing  with  staring 
eyes  into  vacancy,  a  victim  of  the  excellent,  wine    the 


-■?* 


3IO  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  i      -,  - 

monk  so  lavishly  poured  into  large  mugs;  older  men 
— soldiers  who  had  seen  many  lands  and  peoples,  and 
won  many  battles  with  the  wine-cup  as  well  as  the 
sword — bearded  men  inured  to  drink — had  already  been 
conquered  by  the  wine-god. 

But  while  the  merry-making  was  going  on  in  this 
subterranean  paradise  of  monks,  the  pious  father 
superior  was  engaged  in  very  different  affairs. 

Not  ten  minutes  had  elapsed  when  the  footsteps  of 
a  monk  were  heard  coming  down  the  long  dark  corridor.    , : 

The  superior  instantly  threw  himself  on  his  knees 
before  the  picture,  seized  his  rosary  and  began  to  pray 
aloud:  \ 

"Pater  noster —  ' 

Two  minutes   after   the    door    opened    and  -another  - 
priestly  figure  entered.  ; 

It  was  a  tall,  proud  form  that  wore  the  Franciscan 
dress,  a  form  which  the  first  glance  showed  was  not 
accustomed  to  the  garb.  The  features  were  strongly 
marked;  the  shape  and  delicacy  of  the  hands  and  feet 
betrayed  aristocratic  origin;  the  eyes  sparkled  with  i 
intellect,  but  also  cunning,  nay  a  certain  gloomy  ex- 
pression, i 

When  the  new-comer  saw  the  superior  kneeling  and 
praying  so    devoutly,  he    could    not    for'  the    moment 
repress  a  scornful  smile;  but  it  was    only    a    moment 
that  the  sarcastic  expression  rested    upon    the    hand-     ? 
some    countenance — it    quickly    regained     its    former    * 
grave  dignity. 


THE   SUPERIOR  OP  THE    FRANCISCANS  3II 

"Don't  let  me  disturb  you  in  the  performance  of 
your  sacred  duties,  hoi}'  father/'  said  the  new-comer. 
"I'll  wait  quiet]}'  till  you  have  finished.  Only  I 
must  remove  this  disguise  which  is  no  longer  neces- 
sary and  very  oppressive. " 

With  these  words,  he  threw  back,  with  ill-concealed 
repugnance,  the  Franciscan  robe  and  beside  the  kneel- 
ing superior  stood  Franz  Egon,  Prince  of  Fiirstenberg, 
Bishop  of  Strassburg.  - 

The  superior  finished  his  prayers,  and  rising,  ap- 
proached the  bishop  whom  he  greeted  with  great 
respect. 

"Pardon  me  for  keeping  you  waiting,  your  lordship," 
said  he,  "but  the  rules  of  the  Franciscan  order  are 
strict  and  severe." 

"But  the  men  who  obey  it  with  so  much  faithful- 
ness and  punctuality  as,yourself  are  all  the  more  holy 
and  devout,"  replied  Franz  Egon  with  a  slight  shade 
of  sarcasm, 

"That  which  is  the  ardent  wish  and  desire  of  our 
hearts,"  exclaimed  the  monk  emphatically,  "becomes 
a  happy  pastime." 

He  kissed  the  scourge  that  hung  by  his  side. 

"And  can  we  now  finish  our  important  consultations," 
asked  the  bishop.  "My  secret  residence  of  a  week  in 
your  monastery  will  end  to-morrow.  I  must  return  to 
France.     The    fruit  is  ripe,  it  must  fall." 

"The  most  Reverend  Lord  Bishop  has  but  to  com- 
mand! "  replied  the  superior. 


^7  ■*      i^\v^-    ::r7*'^5]^- 


312  A    RuVAL    KobB£K  •  i 

"Are  we  unheard?" 

'As  usual. "  i 

"Weil  then  the  preparations  for  taking  the  city  by 
surprise  are  all  made. ' 

"Will  the  handful  of  men—" 

"How  many  have  you  received  into  the  monastery?" 

"Sixty-five."  .       -   ' 

"Very  well,  within  the  next  few  days,  twice  that 
number,  clad  in  every  conceivable  disguise,  will  arrive. " 

"But  tne  maintenance?" 

"Has  already  been  assured  by  France,  and  you  know 
that  while  under  the  present  heretical  government 
your  monastery  is  only  a  shadow,  it  will  rise — when 
Strassburg  is  again  a    catholic  city — to    the  first  rank. 

"But  Vi'hat  can  this  handful  of  men  do  in  great 
German  Strassburg?" 

"Gently,"  replied  the  bishop,  with  a  proud,  confident 
smile,  "this  handful  of  stout  fellows,  who  do  not  fear, 
and  would  tight  the  devil  himself,  should  we  command, 
will  not  be  alone.  Gunzer  has  an  equal  number. 
They  are  real  fanatics,  will  not  spare  the  babe  at  its 
mother's  breast,  and,  if  necessary,  wade  through  seas 
of  blood  for  holy   Mother  Church." 

"But  the  citizens  and  soldiers  in  the  employ  of  the 
magistrates?" 

"The  citizens  are  poorly  armed,  badly  disciplined, 
and  partly  ours.  The  soldiers  are  simply  paid  mer- 
cenaries, who  have  grCTwn  lazy  and  comfortable  in 
peace." 


-"^^^^^^;^^^rJ:^^yii^S'.:.f^^  _ 


THE  SUPERIOR  OF  THE  FRANCISCANS  313 

"But  their  commander?" 

"Herr  von  Jenneggen?" 

"Yes." 

"Has  also  been  won  over  to  our  side.  But  that 
is  not  all;  at  the  right  hour,  30,000  men  under  General 
Montclar  will  appear  before  the  city  as  if  they  had 
dropped  from  the  clouds," 

"I  don't  understand." 

"Leave  that  to  us,  worthy  father;  to  me,  Louvois 
and  the  brave  general  I  have  just  mentioned.  You 
have  to  do  as  follows:  Conceal  the  troops  that  have 
already  arrived  and  receive  those  yet  to  come." 

"But  what  more?  Ws  have  already  provided  for 
what  you  have  just  mentioned." 

"When  the  right  time  comes — when  the  hour  has 
struck,  the  necessary  leader  for  the  troops  will  ap- 
pear." 

"And  how  am  I  to  know  him?" 

"By  a  letter  and  seal  from  my  own  hand." 

"Very  well." 

"Then  Giinzer,  who  already  has  the  majority  of  the 
magistrates  under  his  control  will  manage  some  way 
to  produce  an  outbreak  at  a  meeting  that  has  been 
prolonged  until  late  at  night.  When  this  occurs  our 
men  will  cry  treason.  The  force  Giinzer  has  stationed 
in  readiness  will  break  in,  arrest  Frantz  and  his  fol- 
lowers or  cut  them  down  if  they  resist.  At  the  same 
time  the  resolute  men  concealed  in  your  convent  will 
rush  out    and    take    possession    of  the    two    principal 


314  A    ROVAI*  ROBBER  1      , 

gates  of  the  city.  Gunzer  has  arranged  to  have  fire 
break  out  in  several  houses  to  occupy  the  attention  of 
the  citizens  and  scatter  them.  Other  signals  will  be 
made  to  the  French  cavalry;  each  man  will  take  a 
foot  soldier  on  the  horse  behind  him;  and  before  the 
citizens  can  assemble,  before  the  city  can  recover  from 
the  surprise  and  terror,  our  men  will  be  upon  the 
walls  of  Strassburg." 

"God  grant  it,"  said  the  superior.  "But  if  the 
plan  should  fail,  what  will  bcome  of  us  and  our  mon- 
astery? " 

"The  Franciscan  Order  is  not  subject  to  any  civil 
tribunal  and — France  is  strong  and  grateful  enough  to 
reward  brave  allies  for  what  they  were  ready  to  do  for 
her.  " 

"Then  let  the  affair  take  its  own  course  as  God 
wills!"  exclaimed  the  superior.  Oar  object  is  to  tear 
Strassburg  from  the  accursed  heretics.  The  Eternal 
Trinity  and  the  Holy  Virgin  will  give  us  their  bless- 
ing." 

"They  will!"  said  the  bishop  solemnly,  "they  will, 
to  that  I  say  amen." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE   STAR  OF  LIFE. 

The  appreciation  and  longing  for  domestic  happiness 
was  nowhere  deeper  than  in  the  family  of  Syndicus 
Frantz. 

It  was  really  beautiful  to  see  how  father,  mother 
and  daughter  lived  for  and  in  each  other. 

But  it  was  a  pleasure  to  see  how  Hedwig  and  Alma 
vied  with  each  other  in  the  performance  of  household 
duties,  the  warm,  sympathizing  affection,  with  which 
both  clung  to  the  beloved  husband  and  father. 

Alma  did  not  despair,  though  her  heart  was  often 
very  heavy.  She  had  inherited  the  character  of  her 
father,  who  understood  how,  by  firm  principle,  to 
keep  what  is  unlovely,  painful  and  confused  in  life 
within  the  narrowest  limits,  that  space  might  be  ob- 
tained for  clear,  free  life. 

But  it  required  a  firm,  resolute  character  like  hers 
not  to  lose  courage;  for  affairs  in  Strassburg  were  be- 
coming more  and  more  confused,  party  strife  more 
violent,  attacks  upon  her  father  more  bitter,  the 
opposite  party — with  Gunzer  at  its  head — was  incom- 
prehensibly gaining  more  and  more  adherents  among 
the  magistrates. 

315 


■«i<yjnC;«iS*5^     ^^  -P  J'''\^  " 


316  A    ROYAL    R0I5BER 


Moreover  the  gulf  between  the  Zedlitz  family  and 
her  own  constantly  grew  wider,  as  the  old  gentleman's 
time  serving  and  leaning  towards  Catholicism  became 
more  and  more  marked. 

Besides,  of  late — and  this  was  the  heaviest  blow  to 
Alma — Wenck  had  ceased  to  have  any  news  of  Hugo; 
nay,  since  yesterday,  a  mysterious  rumor  had  spread 
through  Strassburg,  the  news  that  Wenck  had  myste- 
riously disappeared. 

The  little  man  had  been  last  seen  at  the  meeting  in 
the  assembly-room  of  the  tailor's  guild,  but  he  did  not 
return  home  that  night  and  had  not  been  seen  in 
Strassburg. 

The  excitement  was  great.  Wenck  had  hated  the 
Giinzer  faction,  hated  France — at  the  assembly  he  had 
aided  his  fellow  citizens  to  take  a  decided  step — was  it 
not  possible  that  his  enemies  had  puthimout  of  the  way? 
The  matter  made  Syndicus  Franz  very  uneasy;  for 
he  was  sincerely  attached  to  the  comical  and  yet  capa- 
ble little  man. 

It  was  therefore  no  marvel  that  now — evening  had 
closed  in — he  returned  from  his  office  and  entered  the 
room  with  a  clouded  brow. 

The  mother  and  daughter  were  startled  on  hearing 
the  news  that  the  little  tailor,  Wenck,  was  missing. 
Alma  turned  deadly  pale.  Wenck  was  the  only 
person  with  whom  Hugo  maintained  any  communica- 
tion, through  Wenck  alone  had  she  sometimes  received 
news  of  him.  y 


i-.-,j")rlgE^i: 


THE   STAR  OF   LIFE  317 

The  fears  her  father  expressed  about  his  disappear- 
ance alarmed  her  still  more.  It  seemed  as  if  the  fate 
of  both  men  were  connected,  and  any  misfortune  that 
befell  Wenck  must  be  an  evil  omen  for  her  absent 
lover. 

If  she  could  only  have  confessed  her  love  to  her 
parents  and  hoped  for  their  kind  consent,  it  would 
have  relieved  her  tortured  heart;  for  the  anxiety  of 
this  poor  little  heart  was  increased  by  the  conscien- 
tious scruples  caused  by  the  secret  of  her  love. 

Alma,  dear,  good  child,  had  never  before  had  a 
secret  from  her  beloved  parents.  Her  whole  nature, 
her  acts  and  movements  were  open  to  their  eyes  which 
were  accustomed  to  look  into  the  depths  of  her  pure 
soul  as  if  it  were  the  bottom  of  a  crystal  lake. 

But  just  for  this  very  reason,  this  first  concealment 
of  anything,  this  first  secret  from  her  parents,  seemed 
to  Alma  a  heavy  sin.  And  this  burden  increased  in 
the  same  proportion  as  her  rising  anxiety  for  her  lover. 

Anxious  as  Hedwig  was,  it  did  not  escape  her 
maternal  e3'e  that  some  heavy  grief  was  oppressing 
Alma.  Alma's  color  varied  rapidly  from  red  to  pale. 
Her  self-command  almost  deserted  her  at  the  thought 
that  her  mother  might  have  guessed,  discovered  her 
secret.  She  trembled  from  head  to  foot.  Breath  and 
speech  failed  and  large  tears  filled  her  beautiful  eyes. 
Hedwig' s  eyes  had  also  grown  dim.  Bending  gently 
towards  her  daughter,  she  laid  her  hand  on  hers  and 
said  tenderl}- : 


m: 


t     _ 


318 


A    ROYAL   ROBBER 


"Alma,  my  dear  child,  I  have  noticed  for  a  long 
time  that  3'ou  were  hiding  some  heavy  sorrow  in  your 
heart.  " 

"Mother!"  gasped  the  young  girl,  in  great  embar- 
rassment. 

"I  know,  the  mother  continued,  "that  the  fate  which 
threatens  your  native  cit}^,  whose  existence,  already 
numbered  by  centuries,  is  now  imperiled,  lies  very 
near  your  heart,  I  know  your  faithful,  loving  nature, 
which  grieves  over  the  many  hard  trials  your  father  is 
forced  to  undergo.  My  mother-heart  tells  me  that 
there  must  be  something  else  passing  in  your  mind, 
something  which  of  late  has  utterly  robbed  you  of 
your  former  calmness,  your  unclouded  cheerfulness.  I 
know  there  is  no  room  for  aught  of  evil  in  your  soul, 
so  tell  me,  my  child,  what  is  it  that  so  grieves  you, 
causes  so  many  secret  struggles?" 

"Mother!"  faltered  Alma,  but  a  torrent  of  tears 
choked  her  voice,  and  weeping  bitterly,  she  hid  her 
face  in  Hedwig's  lap. 

Alma's  sobs  grew  fainter  and  fainter.  The  mother 
stooped  and  tenderly  kissed  the  daughter's  luxuriant 
hair.  ' 

"Alma,"  she  began,  in  a  low,  tender  tone,  "my  dear 
Alma,  speak,  speak  freely.  Candor  is  a  great  virtue. 
Usually  only  those  rich  in  other  virtues  possess  it.  I 
am  accustomed  to  find  it  in  you."  ' 

"Come,"  Hedwig  continued  encouragingly,  "many  a 
misfortune    might    not  have  occurred,  if    people    had 


.'^  :■-■>■- 


^"se^F-*-  .^-T 


':  THE  STAR  OF  LIFE  319 

had  the  courage  to  be  frank — even  when    it    was    per- 
haps necessary  to 'confess  an  error,  a  false  step." 

Hedwig  paused.  A  short  silence  ensued,  then  Alma 
said  gently: 

"Yes,  dear  mother,  I  havie  done  something  wrong 
and  will  throw  myself  down  before  you  and  confess  it." 

Another  silence  followed.  Hedwig  was  somewhat 
startled.  She  smiled  through  her  tears;  an  inner  voice 
said:  "Your  dear,  good  child  cannot  really  have  to 
accuse  herself  of  any  wrong. " 

She  gently  stroked  her  daughter's  soft  hair  and 
pressing  a  loving  kiss  upon  her  brow,  whispered: 

"Pour  out  your  heart  to  your  mother,  my  child; 
your  grief  and  your  cares  are  mine." 

Alma  drew  a  long  breath;  the  words  inspired  her 
with  wonderful  courage.  And  now,  while  she  hid  her 
blushing-face  in  her  mother's  lap,  came  the  confession 
of  her  love  for  Hugo  von  Zedlitz  and  tine  still  harder 
one  of  her  first  and  onl)'  meeting  with  him. 

When  the  daughter,  still  hiding  her  blushing  face  in 
her  hands  and  her  mother's  lap,  had  finished,  the 
latter  said  after  a  short  silence: 

"Dear  child,  you  have  certainly  committed  a  great 
error  as  well  as  a  great  imprudence.  It  was  impru- 
dent to  give  your  heart  to  a  man,  with  whose  family 
we  stand  on  an  extremely  doubtful  footing,  nay,  one  of 
almost  positive  enmity.  But  it  was  a  great  error  not 
to  sooner  reveal  your  feelings  to  j'our  parents— at  least 
to  your  mother,  whose  love  3'ou  well  know. " 


;i^^SiaiSaiSt«ais!i«£;,^  'i.-: . 


Ki-,-- 


320  A    ROVAI-    ROBBER  I 

Amid  tears  and  entreaties  for  forgiveness,  Alma 
acknowledged  both  accusations;  but  could  she  help 
her  love,  the  pure  holy  feeling  of  the  warmest  affec- 
tion, which — without  her  will  or  knowledge —had 
gradually  taken  root  unnoticed  in  her  heart?  Was 
she  to  blame  because  Hugo's  patriotic  feeling  had  pro- 
duced so  strong  an  impression  upon  her,  that  she  was 
compelled  to  esteem  a  youth  whose  worth  was  univer- 
sally acknowledged,  that  some  strange  emotion  had 
drawn  her  with  irrisistible  power  toward  the  noble, 
handsome  young  man,  who  as  a  boy — in  the  happier 
days  when  the  Zedlitz  and  Frantz  families  were  warm 
friends-had  been  her  daily  companion? 

Embarrassed — yet  secretly  sustained  by  the  con- 
sciousness of  her  innocence  and  the  purity  of  her 
love — Alma  now  eloquently  represented  all  this  to  her 
mother. 

"And  father?"  asked  Alma  anxiously. 

"Leave  it  to  me,  my  child!"  replied  Hedwig,  "to 
find  a  fitting  moment  to  confide  your  secret  to  him. 
He  must  know  it  as  well  as  I,  then  we  will  both  dis- 
cuss what  is  to  be  done."  .. 

Alma  sighed  heavily,  threw  her  arms  around  "her 
mother's  neck  and  whispered: 

"And  you  forgive  me?"  : 

"Yes,  my  child,  for  I  am  sure  tny  Alma  will  hence- 
forth have  no  secrets  from  her  mother." 

"And  }  ou  don't  condemn  my  love  for  Hugo?" 

"I  think  it  unwise  that;  under  existing  circumstances, 


ih£  «^TAR  oi   iirE  321 

you  should  have  yielded  to  it — but  I  will  not  condeUiU 
it.  The  woman  who  has  never  felt  the  yearning  of  love, 
knows  not  the  holy  spirit  of  faith  and  virtue.  Love 
is  the  strength  and  life  of  woman,  her  religion,  her 
most  sacred  duty,  her  highest  glory." 

"Mother,  mother!  How  I  thank  you!"  exclaimed 
Alma,  with  an  eager  embrace,  "you  have  given  me 
courage,  strength,  hope,  you  have  restored  the  happi- 
ness of  my  life.  ' 

"Then  guard  it  in  your  pure,  faithful  heart,"  said 
the  mother,  "and  pray  God  to  direct  this  affair  to  a 
happy  issue  for  all. " 

Alma  followed  her  mother's  advice. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


THE     DELIVERER. 


Giinzer  was  at  home.  There  was  no  meeting  of  the 
magistrates  that  morning,  yet  he  sat  in  his  private  study 
engrossed  in  business. 

The  net  in  which  Strassburg  was  to  be  imprisoned 
at  a  single  pull  grew  smaller  and  smaller;  but  the 
nearer  the  day  approached  the  more  impatient  and 
urgent  became  his  French  patrons,  Louis  XIV  and  his 
all  powerful  minister,  Louvois.  ' 

Franz  Egon,  Prince  of  Fiirstenberg  and  Bishop  of 
Strassburg,  could  also  hardly  wait  for  the  time,  when 
he  could  enter  Strassburg  and  its  cathedral  as  their 
ecclesiastical  master. 

What  a  double  victory — for  Rome  and  France — he 
would  then  celebrate. 

But  a  better  part  had  been  assigned  to  the  Lord 
Bishop  than  to  Giinzer;  while  the  latter  was  in  the 
very  crater  of  the  conspiracy,  Franz  Egon  remained 
far  away  in  his  episcopal  palace;  while  Giinzer  was 
exposed  to  all  the  changes  of  a  capricious  destiny,  and 
had  to  use  the  utmost  cunning  to  steer  the  ship  of 
State  through  the  countless  rocks,  surrounded  by  treason 

and  peril--the  bishop  directed  affairs  at  his  ease  from 

323  ! 


'^T^-.'^^i^i.^cJfgLi  (!?*:?" 


THE    DELIVERER  323 

his  arm-chair,  while  drawing  the   pleasures    of  life    to 
the  last  drop. 

Gtinzer  possessed  an  unusual  capacity  for  labor. 
His  office  as  clerk  occupied  much  of  his  time  and 
yet  he  also  had  to  maintain  an  extensive  secret  cor- 
respondence with  Louvois  and  the  Bishop  of  Strass- 
burg,  attend  to  the  dangerous  task  of  bribing  tiic 
magistrates  and  influential  citizens,  manage  the  nego- 
tiations with  the  superior  of  the  Franciscan  monastery, 
in  a  word,  direct  the  whole  conspiracy. 

Gunzer  only  allowed  himself  three  or  four  hours 
rest  at  night;  during  the  day  not  a  moment  was  unoc- 
cupied. He  had  but  one  recreation,  the  thought  of 
the  sums  already  obtained — the  bribe  money  so  lavishly 
sent  by  France— and  the  calculation  of  the  honor  and 
power  to  which  he  would  rise  by  giving  up  his  native 
city  to  the  French  king?  Would  he  not  instantly  be 
given  power  to  crush  his  enemies — above  all  the 
Frantz  family— and  trample  them  in  the  dust? 

But  the  pressure  of  business  now  left  him  little 
time  for  such  pleasures — they  were  principally  con- 
nected with  Alma  who  had  so  coldly  rejected  his  suit 
— the  conspiracy  was  to  break  out  in  a  few  days.  The 
Franciscan  monastery  was  already  filled  with  stout 
men,  and  his  own  soldiers  had  also  been  secretly 
admitted  in  disguise  and  placed  in  secure  quarters. 

Gunzer  was  daily  expecting  the  last  decisive  com- 
mand from  Louvois.  A  letter  from  the  French  gen- 
eral,     Montclar,    had    just    arrived.       In    it    General 


\ .  ..s2l  Si2SuM^<nl'jJc!»riiL.i.'ili. . 


3-^4  A    ROYAL    ROBBEK  j 

Montclar  announced  that  he  was  approaching  Strass- 
burg  with  a  considerable  force.  Giinzer  and  the  supe- 
rior must  hold  themselves  in  readiness.  The  surprise, 
however,  must  appear  as  if  it  had  come  from  the 
citizens,  since  the  Most  Christian  king  wished  to 
avoid  any  apparent  deed  of  violence.  His  entrance  into 
Strassburg  after  the  work  was  done,  must  have  the 
semblance  of  hastening  to  the  aid  of  Strassburg  in 
response  to  the  summons  of  its  worthy  inhabitants. 

Giinzer  was  still  occupied  in  deciphering  this  letter, 
when  his  servant  announced  the  commandant  of  the 
city,  Herr  von  Jenneggen. 

He  hastily  concealed  the  despatch,  while  he  sent 
word  to  the  officer  to  enter. 

"Welcome,  Herr  von  Jenneggen!"  he  exclaimed,  ad- 
vancing to  meet  his  visitor.  "What  gives  me  the 
pleasure  of  a  visit  from  you  at   this  unusual  hour?" 

"I  think  It  my  duty,  Herr  Giinzer,  to  call  your  atten- 
tion to  an  incident  which  has  aroused  my  suspicions. 
You  know  my  interest  in  the  welfare  of  Strassburg," 

"You  have  given  ample  proofs  of  it." 

"Well,  the  times  are  difficult,  the  situation  of  the 
city  is  critical." 

"Certainly!  Because  foolish  men,  in  their  passion 
are  blind  to  its  real  welfare. 

'But  who  can  tell  to  what  passion  will  lead, 
especially  in  politics?" 

"Do  we  not  see  this  in  our  so-called  patriots?" 

"We  understand  each  other,  Herr  Giinzer." 


gj!^,?;s»-?!5:i:r- 


THE    DELIVERER  325 

Giinzer  smiled.  He  knew  wh}'  Herr  vonjenneggeii 
had  lately  received  through  Frischmann  — in  conse- 
quence of  Giinzer' s  influence  at  the  French  court — a 
valuable  snuff-box  set  with  diamonds,  and  a  commis- 
sion for  his  son  in  the  French  army. 

"I  therefore  think  it  my  duty,"  continued  the  officer, 
"to  redouble  my  watchfvilness  in  these  dangerous  times. 
The  reports  of  the  sentinels  at  the  gates  are  suspicious. " 

"How  so?" 

"An  unusually  large  number  of  Franciscan  monks 
and  workmen  are  entering  the  city." 

Giinzer  could  scarcely  conceal  his  embarrassment. 
The  disguised  men  were  doubtless  those  concealed  in 
the  monastery  and  quarters  selected  by  him  and  he 
dared  not  give  even  jenneggen  any  information  on  this 
subject. 

The  officer's  position  was  still  doubtful.  He  was 
yet  in  the  service  of  the  city,  and  had  sworn  allegi- 
ance to  her. 

"And  could  there  be  anything  suspicious  in  that," 
he  asked  with  apparent  indifference.  "It  is  probably 
mere  accident." 

"That  is  scarcely  possible! "  observed  the  officer, 
dawing  a  package  of  papers  from  his  breast  pocket. 
"Here  are  the  reports  of  the  last  week  from  the  gates. 
Be  kind  enough  to  examine  them  yourself." 

Giinzer,  who  was  really  not  a  little  perplexed,  bent 
over  the  papers  to  conceal  the  anxiety  that  could  not 
fail  to  be  expressed  in  his  features. 


...JteE  r:ii-'^*j-3r.^.=--,'^'^*..-«?-::SJ    *^iJF;s^.^:a.!*^H^h^ -mJ*^   .       .-aa*i-.-.»s._.^iteai*.rf^_  ,yL»,   S5*i/.  ^i.,.-±ra_'!E  . 


326  A    noVAL    ROTiBFR  .  i 

"See,"  continued  the  zealous  officer,  "everyday,  at 
every  gate,  Franciscan  monks  entered,  and  the  mon- 
astery contains  only  a  few— while  workmen — -— " 

"Of  what  trade?"  I 

"Principally  tailors.  " 

"Tailors?     And  do  they  find  work?"  i 

"At  once  apparently;  for  none  went  out,'* 

"My  dear  Herr  von  Jenneggen,"  said  Gunzer,  who 
meantime  had  completely  regained  his  self-command, 
"accept,  in  the  name  of  our  good  city,  the  thanks  due 
your  zeal.  But  it  seems  to  me  that  this  is  a  mere 
accident.  Nevertheless  I  will  keep  the  reports  and 
place  them  before  the  magistrates.  You  will,  until 
then,  have  the  kindness  to  maintain  strict  silence  in 
regard  to  the  affair." 

"Certainly,"  replied  Herr  von  Jenneggen,  rising- 
"I  merely  came  to  do  my  duty."  i 

The  two  gentlemen  bowed  to  each  other  and  the 
officer  left  the  room.  Gunzer  accompanied  him  to  the 
stairs;  but  when  once  more  in  his  room,  said  angrily: 

"Simpleton!  That  confounded  snuff-box  has  made 
him  so  zealous  that  he  was  on  the  point  of  discovering 
and  betraying  our  conspirac3^  As  if  it  were  not  my 
affair  and  that  of  the  guardians  of  the  people."  And 
he  returned  to  General  Montclar's  letter. 

But  Syndicus  Frantz  was  engaged  at  the  same  time 
with  an  extremely  important  missive  which  had  reached 
his  hands  in  a  very  mysterious  way.  He  found  it  in  his 
room,  but  no  one  in  the  house  knew  who  had  brought  it. 


THE    DF.LTVERER  327 

But  it  was  not  how  the  paper  had  come  there  which 
principall}'  surprised  the  Sj'ndicus,  its  contents  made 
his  hair  stand  on  end.  In  short,  it  revealed  to  his 
horror,  a  conspiracy  against  Strassburg. 

The  lines  ran  as  follows: 

"Treachery  threatens  Strassburg.  The  enemies  of 
our  native  city  have  smuggled  large  numbers  of  soldiers 
into  the  Franciscan  monastery  where  they  are  now 
concealed.  The  conspirators,  who  are  in  league  with 
others  outside,  may  break  forth  at  any  moment.  The 
manner  and  time  in  which  tlie  plot  is  to  be  executed, 
the  writer  of  these  lines  does  not  know.  But  the  whole 
can  and  will  be  baffled  if  the  monaster}^  can  be  cap- 
tured; this  however  must  be  speedily  and  secretly 
done.  The  writer  of  this  letter,  a  true  patriot,  eager 
for  the  welfare  of  Strassburg,  his  native  city,  will 
therefore  undertake  the  venture  with  a  few  trusted 
friends  tomorrow  night  at  eleven  o'clock,  and  please 
God,  execute  the  task,  even  if  he  should  sacrifice  his 
life.  Prepare  to  keep  an  insurrection  of  the  evil-dis- 
posed confined  within  the  limits  of  the  city.  You  will 
find  armed  allies  at  the  assembly  room  of  the  tailor's 
guild  at  ten  o'clock  to-morrow  evening.  Take  them 
to-  the  monastery  as  noiselessly  as  possible,  that  they 
may  afford  us  help  in  case  of  need.  Love  and  our 
native  land!  is  the  countersign.  Nothing  must  be 
done  publicly,  neither  magistrates  nor  armed  power 
called  upon  for  aid,  or  all  will  be  lost.  May  God 
strengthen  and  protect  us." 


^_i£^r:£.'iJifJfS^-^.^^>i&i!^iii^iiJ^ilL^.^^^ 


■-■    >-  ^».»-'  T>  r-s-^yi^^^ 


328  A    pnVAL    ROBBFR  [.  ' 

i 

When  Frantz  had  read  these  lines,  he  stood  rigid  with 
amazement  and  terror.  Could  it  really  be  true,  could 
treachery  have  approached  so  near  hapless  Strassburg? 
The  affair  looked  probable,  the  monks  were  implicated, 
so  doubtless  was  the  Bishop  of  Strassburg.  i 

But  3^et?  Might  not  the  letter  be  a  snare  to  Involve 
the  Syndicus  in  some  mad  venture?  Might  not  his 
enemies  be  trying  to  compromise  him?  i  - 

After  a  period  of  calm  reflection,  he  no  longer  enter- 
tained a  doubt  of  what  was  to  be  done.  i 

The  same  hour  the  S3mdicus  hastened  to  a  secret 
consultation  with  his  most  trusted  friends  and   allies. 

The  evening  of  the  following  day  closed  in  upon 
Strassburg.  The  day  itself  had  passed  like  any  other 
in  the  same  routine  of  occupation  and  business.  i 

"Watch!"  said  a  little  man  wrapped  in  a  dark  cloak 
and  with  a  broad-brimmed  hat  on  his  head,  who  stood 
at  a  street  corner — directly  opposite  the  Franciscan 
monastery — to  another  figure.  "Watch!  It's  just  strik- 
ing nine,  a  couple  come  every  evening  at  this  hour. 
Are  our  men  on  the  watch?"  ; 

The  second  figure  pointed  to  another  street  corner, 
but  It  was  too  dark  to  see  anything  distinctly.  1 

A  death-like  silence  brooded  over  the  street.  Aris- 
ing storm  had  driven  people  to  their  houses,  and 
moreover,  according  to  a  good  old  custom,  every  re- 
spectable citizen  sought  his  home  before  nine  o'clock. 

Suddenly  both  started  in  surprise.  ] 

It  seemed  as  if  they  heard  strange  sounds  from  the 
monastery. 


-  ^  \-  .ie-.Z.-r'fr-.i-x'-ir-^ 


1a^?S^:  V  *itf -^'  ■? 


THE    DELIVERER  329 

"What's    that?"  whispered     the  shorter  of  the  two, 

"Singing,"  replied  the  other. 

The  sounds  seemed  to  come  from  a  long,  long  dis- 
tance, almost  as  if  out  of  a  subterranean  chamber. 

"That  is  in  the  monastery,"  the  little  man  began. 

"It  almost  seems  so — and  yet  that  is  impossible." 

"Deuce  take  me,"  whispered  the  the  little  man,  "if 
that  isn't  one  of  our  wildest  drinking  songs!" 

"And  yet  it  comes  from  the  monastery?" 

"Why  not?  They  think  the  world  is  asleep  and  are 
celebrating  a  jolly  revel  with  their  comrades  the 
soldiers,  in  the  vaults  below  the  building." 

"In  the  monaster}'?  ' 

"Oh!  innocence.  As  if  the  Evil  One  with  all  his 
crimes  did  not  have  his  favorite  abode  in  monasteries." 

■  Oh!  shame,"  cried  the  younger,  "these  false  saints 
unite  all  other  vices  to  the  crime  of  treason." 

"It  is  bad  enough  that  such  should  be  the  case 
with  the  standard  bearers  of  the  Christian  religion," 
said  the  other. 

"Who  knows  what  good  it  may  do!"  rejoined  the 
little  man.  "To  us  for  instance  this  singing  of  disso- 
lute, drinking  songs  can  onl}-  be  welcome." 

"Why  so?" 

"Because  I  am  firmly  convinced  that  we  shall  find 
the  whole  nest,  monks  and  soldiers  in  the  deepest  in- 
toxication." 

"That  would  certainly  be  well — it  might  spare  much 
blood-shed. " 


,-TV^>_-^— r  '^T^^'-'yv^^^^.  - 


330  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  j 

I 

"I  know  that,  I  know  soldiers  and  monks  from  the 
campaigns  I  have  fought.  With  one  it  is  blows  and 
then  robbery,  burning,  carousing — with  the  other 
prayers  and  then — the  same  thing  only  in  a  different 
way. " 

"Hush!"  said  the  other.     "I  think  I  hear  footsteps.' 

"Now  is  the  time,  "whispered  the  little  man,  giving 
a  low  whistle.  x\t  the  same  moment  the  two  muffled 
figures  moved  forward,  so  that  anyone  who  entered 
the  monastery  would  be  obliged  to  pass  close  by  them. 

Almost  at  the  same  instant  two  dark  figures  turned 
the  corner  of  the  street. 

Not  until  they  were  close  to  the  muffled  forms  did 
the  latter  perceive  that  they  were  two  Franciscan 
monks. 

"Blessed  be  the  holy  Francis,"  said  the  3'ounger. 

"Amen!"  replied  two,  deep,  harsh  voices. 

"Are  you  going  into    the  monastery,  dear   brother?" 

The  figures  were  silent,  apparently  perplexed. 

"Aha!  "  said  the  young  man,  "the  wolveb  are  already 
in  the  trap."  He  repeated  his  question  in  the  French 
language. 

It  was  now  understood  and  answered  in  the  affirma- 
tive. 

"Then  follow  me,"  said  the  muffled  figure. 

At  the  same  instant  a  second  low  whistle  was  heard.  . 

"What's  that?"  asked  one  of  the  monks  in  his  native 
language.  But  he  had  not  finished  the  question  when 
he  and  his  comrade  \vere  seized  by  powerful  arms  and 


i..»iii»ii&».«  ,« .^ .»,    ..  1 - "., 1.1  :,  .ir5i;;vi.%i.  ^ii;«.^'«;.,-itfi»jiCniiiaiiitA'^5ii 


THE    DELIVERER  331 

at  the  same  Instant  gags  were  thrust  into  the    mouths 
of  both. 

The  result  of  the  capture  showed  two  well-armed 
Frenchmen  concealed  under  the  monks'  cowls. 

Far  away  as  if  from  the  depths  of  the  earth  rose  the 
smothered  notes  of  merry  drinking  songs.  It  was  now 
pouring  in  torrents,  and  darkness,  deep,  silent  night 
brooded  over  everything. 

Hugo  von  Zedlitz  and  Wenck — for  it  was  they  who 
had  captured  the  two  French  soldiers  disguised  as 
Franciscan  monks — now  went,  followed  by  their  pris- 
oners and  the  armed  citizens  who  guarded  them,  to  a 
side  street.  Here  stood  an  old,  gloomy,  dilapidated 
house,  to  which  nothing  could  be  more  welcome  than 
such  a  dark,  rainy  night  as  the  present,  since  in  the 
light  of  day  it  must  have  been  ashamed  of  itself  even 
among  the  modest  houses  in  the  neighborhood.  The 
owner  of  the  house  was  one  of  Wenck's  friends,  also 
a  tailor  and  good  patriot,  and  now  a  confederate. 
Hugo  and  Wenck  had  formed  a  conspiracy  since"  the 
night  they  met  at  the  Snake's  Hole. 

Wenck  was  surprised  and  perplexed  at  the  danger 
threatening  his  native  city,  but  like  Hugo  himself, 
quickly  resolved  at  any  cost  and  the  exposure  of  his 
own  life,  to  sav^  Strassburg  by  prompt  action. 

Both  men  instantly  perceived  the  difficulty  of  the 
task.  All  that  was  to  be  done  must  be  performed 
without  the  knowledge  and  aid  of  the  authorities  for 
the  greater    portion  of    these  magistrates  were  not    to 


^.■•-«n.*^i^">Su£.  .   i«-.Il>3^>r^.r:iT.l_^L.>-U».i..< 


332  .  A    ROVAL    ROHHKK  '  > 

be  trusted,  nay  it  was  even  to  be  supposed  that  Gunzer, 
together  with  the  whole  French  party,  belonged  to 
the  plot. 

Thus  poor  Strassburg  was  robbed  of  her  natural  de- 
fenders; for  though  Syndicus  Frantz  and  the  patriots 
could  be  relied  upon,  it  was  to  be  anticipated  that  if 
the  affair  became  known,  the  superior  of  the  Francis- 
can monastery  would  instantly  hear  of  it  and  be  on 
liis  guard. 

Thus  the  government  must  be  left  out  of  the  ques- 
tion— the  existence  of  the  city  was  threatened  and 
must  be  saved,  so  what  remained  save  independent 
action. 

Hugo  von  Zedlitz  and  Wenck  were  the  right  men 
for  this. 

But  could  they  alone  capture  the  nest  of  treason  in 
which  a  large  number  of  well-armed  soldiers  was  con- 
cealed? Strong  support  was  needed;  the  aid  of  a  large 
number  of  patriotic  men  and  also — stout  arms. 

This  is  wli}'  Wenck  disappeared.      But  if  he  became 
invisible  to  the  public  he  was  by   no   means    inactive. 
The  little  tailor  worked  in  the    darkness  like    a    mole 
and  soon  almost  tlie  whole  tailor's    guild    was    in    the 
couspirac}'  Vi'itli  liim. 

But  Wenck  did  still  more;  as  soon  as  he  was  sure 
of  a  number  of  patriots,  he  glided,  supplied  with  all 
the  money  he  could  raise  on  his  -house  and  little 
property,  into  the  country.  Here  he  gained  fresh 
allies^  whoiii  he  sent,  lo  Strassburg  under   the   pretext 


«;;Lj«StS 


.      ■  <""  J""i  '"-■.  >-"  -■'".'   "  -       :     '■         -     ^  ■    ' 


.  THE    DELIVERER  333 

that  they  were  tailors  looking  for  worlc  in  the  city. 

Each  one  had  the  address  of  some  tailor,  who  in- 
stantly set  him  to  work,  while  secretly  procuring  the 
necessary  weapons. 

The  plan  formed  by  Hugo  and  Wenck  did  not  re- 
quire an}'  regularly  organized  military  force,  only  a 
number  of  strong,  brave  men. 

This  was  the  reason  that  the  zealous  commander  of 
the  city,  Herr  von  Jenneggen,  had  noticed  in  the 
reports  sent  from  the  gates  the  large  number  of  tailors 
seeking  work. 

So  the  plot  had  matured.  Hugo  undertook  its  exe- 
cution. The  monastery  must  be  surprised,  the  monks 
and  superior  placed  in  custod}',  the  French  soldiers 
taken  prisoners  or  slain. 

Wenck's  discovery  that  every  evening  at  nine 
o'clock,  two  soldiers  disguised  as  monks  were  smug- 
gled into  the  monastery,  was  an  important  one.  Hugo 
formed  his  whole  plan  upon  this  fact. 

If  these  men— who  undoubtedly  possessed  a  pass- 
word— fell  into  his  hands,  this  password  and  the 
Franciscan  dresses  would  procure  him  and  a  com- 
panion admittance.  If  he  could  once  gain  an  entrance 
through  the  outer  gate,  the  rest  of  the  affair  caused 
him  no  anxlet}'. 

The  disguised  monks  were  in  his  hands.  In  their 
pockets  papers  were  found  among  which  was  one  con- 
taining the  desired  password. 

They  might  now    set    out,    especially    as    S5'ndicus 


iii*.;;-..-.!r_.-...*.isi*,t 


5!»«!5JSSJ?^^ 


334  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  . 

Frantz  had  been  informed  of  everything  by  the  secret 
letter.  Hugo  and  Wenck  knew  they  could  rely  upon 
him. 

By  his  mediation  the  patriotic  magistrates  were 
ready  with  their  followers  to  take  prompt  measures 
in  case  their  aid  was  needed.  Almost  the  whole 
tailor's  guild,  well  armed  and  ready  for  battle,  was  in 
the  assembly-room  with  the  Syndicus. 

Yet  nothing  was  seen  or  lieard  of  all  this.  Strass- 
burg  seemed  sunk  in  deep  repose.  Night  and  dark- 
ness, rest  and  silence,    surrounded  it. 

Eleven  o'clock  struck.  Noiselessly  as  If  they  had 
sprung  from  the  earth,  dark  forms  filled  the  streets 
near  the  monastery,  the  nooks  and  angles  of  the  houses. 

The  bell  at  the  convent  gate  rang. 

It  was  sometime  before  the  little  square  window,  cut 
in  the  gate,  slowly  opened  and  a  voice  sleepily  asked 
who  was  disturbing  the  rest  of  the  monastery  at  so 
late  an  hour? 

"Two  sons  of  holy  Francis."  was  the  stammering 
reph'  of  a  monk  in  the  French  language. 

"At  this  hour?"  was  returned  in  a  tone  of  angry 
surprise. 

" Mort  de  7na  vie!"  retorted  the  other,  "we  got  as  wet 
as  fish  on  our  way  to  the  city  and  stopped  to  refresh 
our  inner  man.  Parhleu!  The  devil  take  this  masque- 
rading. Open  the  gate,  reverend  brother,  that  we 
may  get  rid  of  these  cursed  cowls.  We're  hungry 
and  thirsty  too!"  , 


it. 


■■/■■ 


•:^^^^!^^.^?y^^<Bi-  y:^r^^  ■ . ; ^*^ 


~  -  THE    DELIVERER  535 

His  voice  was  that  of  a  drunken  man. 
"Speak  lower!"  said  the  monk  with  evident  anxiety. 
"Pshaw!"  replied  the  mock  Franciscan  loudly,   "it's 
dark,  the    dogs  of    citizens    are    asleep.      What's    the 
use?     Open." 

The  porter,  scarcely  aroused  from  a  gentle  shimber, 
angry  and  yet  afraid  that  some  nocturnal  pedestrian 
or  accidental  passer-by  might  hear  tliismore  than  sus- 
picious conversation,   was  in  the  greatest  perplexit}'. 

He  dared  not  turn  the  new-comers  av/a}',  the}-  were 
doubtless  the  men  expected  at  nine  o'clock,  who  had 
been  belated  by  the  rain  and  drunkenness.  Ever}^- 
thing  was  endangered  b}'  their  condition. 

"And  yet,  in  the  darkness,  who  could  tell  that  they 
were  the  right  ones? 

"Let  me  feel  your  sleeve!"  said  the  porter,  putting 
his  hand  out  through  the  window. 

He  touched  the  rough,  heavy  cloth  of  the  Franciscans. 

"The  pas^-word?" 

"St.  Croix  de  Bear]!" 

This  was  correct,    the  porter  uttered  a  sigh  of  relief. 

He  now  had  an  undoubted  right  to  admit  them,  and 
once  in  the  monastery  there  was  no  longer  any  danger 
of  treachery. 

"Well?  Will  you  be  quick?"  cried  the  drunken 
soldier. 

The  keys  at  the  monk's  belt  rattled. 

At  the  same  moment  there  was  a  low,  almost  inau- 
dible whistle. 


'KT;>;|S;-«r,'-.'?^T3^i^=  -;g^7s^a^^s^7^  -;  , ,  ■,-,•.';;. 


336  A^ROYAL    ROBBER 

Now  the  heavy  bolt  was  pushed  back,  the  key 
turned,  the  little  door  opened. 

But  the  drunken  man  must  have  leaned  awkwardly 
against  it,  he  stumbled  and  fell  upon  the  porter  who, 
starting  back  a  little,  caught  him  in  his  arms. 

"Brother!  "  murmured  the  soldier,  embracing  the 
monk  with  a  strength  that  alarmed  him.  i 

But  ere  he  could  utter  a  word  his  terror  was  to  be 
increased;  for,  with  the  speed  of  lightning,  a  gag  was 
thrust  into  his  mouth,  and  ropes  bound  arms  and  feet. 
He  saw  a  throng  of  dark  figures  press  through  the 
door  entrusted  to  his  care,  then  was  dragged  into  the 
inner  court  and  laid  face  downward  on  the  ground. 

Soon  a  regular  foot -fall  showed  that  a  sentinel  was 
pacing  up  and  down  beside  him. 

But  Hugo  and  Wenck  were  obliged  to  repeat  their 
stratagem  at  the  inner  door. 

Certain  of  success,  they  knocked;  but  to  their  terror 
found  that  they  had  made  an  error  in  calculation. 

According  to  the  regulations  of  the  monastery,  it 
was  the  duty  of  the  porter  at  the  outer  door  to  an- 
nounce all  arrivals  at  the  door  of  the  building  In  the 
courtyard. 

Besides  the  cunning  brother  stationed  there  knew 
that  an}^  little  noises  made  by  drunken  men  within 
the  courtyard  would  cause  no  danger. 

He  therefore  harshly  repelled  the  expectation  that 
lie  would  open  the  door  at  so  late  an  hour  with  the 
words : 


.  ,.  "S. -.i^J'.''-i-.Ji!L.fiS>jfe-*!^,  j£-.t..^j^S»*';i  j.j»»tiaffi*.anBW-._. 


■',    -  THE    DELIVERKR  337 

"Drunken  vagabonds!  Sleep  off  your  carouse  in  the 
open  air." 

The  pretended  monks  raged.  In  vain,  the  porter 
made  no  answer. 

Hugo  and  Wenck  were  in  no  little  perplexity. 

What  was  to  be  done  now?  Hugo  had  not  thought 
of  this. 

He  was  discussing  the  matter  with  Wenck,  when 
the  singing  heard  before  echoed  on  their  ears  again, 
only  considerably  nearer  and  more  distinct. 

Then  Hugo,  as  if  his  patience  were  exhausted,  ex- 
claimed angrily:  "Mori  de  ma  vie!"  and  began  to 
ring  the  bell  as  if  the  monastery  were  on  fire. 

This  produced  an  effect.  The  startled  monk  not 
only  opened  the  door,  but  the  noise  summoned  the 
superior,  who  crimson  with  anger,  was  pouring  forth 
a  torrent  of  invectives  when  to  his  terror,  he  saw 
both  wings  of  the  door  pressed  open,  himself  and  the 
porter  surrounded  and  the  wide  space  fille'd  with 
armed  men. 

All  this  was  the  work  of  a  few  seconds. 

The  superior  and  porter  were  also  bound  and  gagged. 

The  way  was  opened;  but  now  cunning  was  at  an 
end  and  the  sword  must  speak. 

A  portion  of  the  men,  according  to  preconcerted  ar- 
rangement, took  possession  of  the  entrances.  All  the 
others,  sword  in  hand,  followed  Hugo  and  Wenck, 
who  had  thrown  off  their    troublesome    disguises    and 

appeared  arm,ed  to  the  teeth. 

S2     Rohher 


333  A.   ROYAL    ROBBER  I 

It  was  a  motley  throng,  undisciplined,  armed  partly 
with  swords,  partly  with  pikes  and  guns;  but  men 
who  had  strong  hands  and  brave  hearts.  ; 

They  moved  quietly  through  the  long,  lonely  corri- 
dors. 

The  doors  of  most  of  the  cells  stood  open,  but 
they  were  empty.  From  the  distance,  out  of  the 
depths  of  the  earth,  the  faint  notes  of  singing  were 
heard. 

Hugo  and  Wenck  followed  the  sound.  ! 

It  grew  more  and  more  distinct  and  the  voices 
seemed  hoarser  and  wilder;  songs,  laughter  and  curses, 
like  some  wild  revel  in  a  camp. 

Words  could  now  be  clearly  distinguished. 

Hugo  paused — they  had  only  a  flight  of  cellar  stairs 
to  descend. 

"Brothers,  friends,"  he  whispered,  "all  depends  on 
this  moment.  We  do  not  know  how  many  there  are; 
probably  two  to  our  one.  But  we  do  know  that  the 
majority  are  old,  trained  soldiers,  who  understand  how 
to  wield  their  blades,  even  when  their  heads  are 
heated  with  wine.  We  are  only  simple  citizens  or 
plain  workmen,  but — we  are  fighting  for  a  just  cause, 
against  treason  and  rascality — this  must  give  us 
strength  and  courage.  So  forward,  for  God  and  our 
native  land!  Strike  down  all  who  resist,  dead  ,or 
alive,  the  whole  troop  must  fall   into  our  hands." 

With  these  words  Hugo  kicked  open  the   iron   door~ 
and,  with  the  shout  "For  God  and   our   native    land," 


THE    DELIVERER  339 

he  and  his  followers  rushed  upon  the  startled  revelers. 

But  Hugo's  anticipations  had  been  correct;  though 
Friend  Bacchus  was  celebrating  a  great  triumph,  and 
heads  were  as  heavy  as  throats  were  hoarse,  the  old 
warriors  had  scarcely  perceived  flashing  swords  and 
glittering  weapons,  than  their  own  sabers  flew  frcnr 
their  sheaths  and  a  desperate  struggle  began. 

It  was  a  wild,  terrible  scene.  In  the  gloomy, 
vaulted  apartment,  scarcely  lighted  by  the  flaring 
torches,  among  huge  casks,  overthrown  tuns  and  mugs, 
here,  where  the  ga3'est  mirth  had  just  prevailed,  a 
fierce  conflict  was  now  raging.  Drunkenness  and  fury 
distorted  the  faces  of  the  combatants — death-like 
pallor  and  terror  were  depicted  on  the  countenance,  of 
the  monks,  who  had  all  taken  refuge  between  and 
under  the  wine  butts. 

Already  wounded  and  dying  men*  lay  on  the  floor. 
Hugo  and  Wenck  fought  like  lions,  but  they  and  their 
party  were  forced  to  give  way  more  and  more. 

Now  the}'  were  pressed  to  the  stairs,  now,  still 
fighting,  were  compelled  to  retreat  towards  the  outer 
corridor. 

Hugo  and  Wenck  fought  in  front  and  gave  way 
only  step  by  step.  Swords  whizzed  fiercely  around 
their  heads — they  paid  no  heed.  More  of  their  fol- 
lowers fell  wounded,  they  did  not  see  it;  death  sur- 
rounded them  in  a  thousand  forms  — they  did  not  care. 

Yielding  to  superior  numbers,  they  had  now  been 
forced  out  of  the  cellar,  the  long  corridors  of  the  mon- 


■A  ~■■■-t^J 


340  A    ROYAL    ROBr.ER 

astery  were  already  echoing  with  the  clank  of  swords 
and  the  rattling  of  shots.  .  , 

Then  Hugo's  ear  caught  the  sound  of  bells  ringing 
an  alarm  from  the  steeples  of  the  city. 

The  decisive  moment  had  come,  and  with  it,  Syndi- 
cus  Frantz,  at  the  head  of  the  tailor's  guild,  that 
would  no  longer  be  restrained,  rushed  into  the  mon- 
astery. 

Wild  shouts  of  Joy  greeted  them.  With  redoubled 
strength  Hugo  now  pressed  forward.  The  soldiers 
gave  way  before  his  energy — a  short  resistance  and 
the  monastery  with  all  its  inmates — dead  and  alive — 
was  in  Hugo's  hands.  _     , 


g^S»^rp,|..2*S.-    ,.-.^,,      .,.^;-„  .,,_-  ,::^, 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE   HAPPINESS   OF  LOVE. 

Of  course  on  the  following  morning  all  Strassburg 
knew  what  had  occurred  during  the  previous  night. 
The  excitement  was  terrible.  The  wrath  of  the  people 
and  their  fury  against  the  Franciscan  monks  knew  no 
bounds. 

The  magistrates,  to  prevent  an  attack  upon  the 
monastery,  were  obliged  to  surround  it  with  a  guard 
of  soldiers. 

Even  the  bishop  was  bitterly  cursed;  for  every  one 
was  morally  certain  that  he  had  secretly  formed  and 
directed  the  whole  conspiracy. 

It  was  fortunate  for  Giinzer  that  nobody  suspected 
his  connection  with  the  intended  treason;  the  excited 
citizens  would  surely  have  attacked  his  house  and 
hacked  to  pieces  or  hung  the  already  hated  man. 

Of  course  Giinzer  feigned  the  utmost  indignation; 
nay  the  first  motion  he  made  the  following  morning, 
in  the  hastily  convened  session  of  the  great  council, 
was  the  immediate  expulsion  of  the  Franciscan  monks 
from  the  city. 

Giinzer,  who  was  the  very  embodiment  of  cunning, 
promised,  as  the  city  did  not  wish  to  be  stripped  of  its 

341 


..;\\  r^.  *."-^7,^aP-^.:_^#^?JT;j^;-^?r?^*^7.rj^         f.-9^r^!Siifj^ffy;-^--'-- 


342  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  ! 

few  soldiers,  to  provide  reliable  people  to  serve  as 
the  priests'  escort.  He  kept  his  word  and  in  this 
way  got  rid  of  part  of  the  men,  whom  in  the  bishop's 
name,  he  had  smuggled  into  Strassburg  to  aid  in  sur- 
prising the  city,  and  whose  discovery  now  threatened 
to  betray  his  baseness  and  thus  entail  upon  him  de- 
struction and  death. 

All  Strassburg  rang  with  young  Zedlitz's  praise,  his 
name  ran  from  lip  to  lip.  Every  one  now  asserted 
that  he  had  always  known  and  declared  that  Hugo 
had  been  unjustl}'  banished. 

n  the  young  man  had  appeared  he  would  have  been 
greeted  everywhere  with  loud  acclamations.  The 
enthusiastic  populace  felt  the  utmost  love  for  him 
and  little  Wenck.  But  both  were  too  wise  and  modest 
to  desire  to  celebrate  such  a  triumph;  nay  Hugo,  in 
his  nice  sense  of  honor,  insisted  upon  presenting  him- 
self before  the  magistrates  as  a  condemned  man. 

And  he  actually  executed  this  design  early  the  fol- 
lowing morning. 

The  perplexity  he  thus  caused  the  Giinzer  faction 
was  very  great,  especially  when,  as  the  rumor  spread 
abroad  that  the  deliverer  of  the  city,  the  innocent 
exile,  had  given  himself  up  to  his  enemies — the  guilds 
all  assembled,  and,  led  by  the  tailors,  marched  with 
banners  flying  to  the  Rathhaus,  loudly  and  violently 
demanding  the  revocation  of  the  sentence  of  banish- 
ment and  the  release  of  their  hero  and  favorite. 

No  course  was  left  the  Gunzer  party  except  to  put 


.  _i;/i.'.-ti  C!-S- >K:£S^-.^r*'S-'-&-  iC'iSSs.  ~ 


~?»^< 


^ 


THE  HAPPINESS   OF   LOVE  343 

the  best  possible  face  on  the  matter,  especially  as  Frantz 
and  his  adherents  were  on  the  side  of  the  people. 

Hugo  vonZedlitz  was  brought  forward  and  received 
permission  to  defend  himself  against  the  former  ac- 
cusation, which  he  did  with  all  the  power  of  truth. 
His  words  were  plain  and  simple,  but  omnipotent  by 
the  weight  of  conviction,  the  fire  of  a  holy  enthusiasm, 
the  ardor  of  a  pure  and  noble  patriotism  which  they 
expressed. 

While  the  youth  was  defending  himself  with  noble 
pride  and  his  simple  words  rushed  from  his  lips  in  a 
torrent,  the  mob  outside  the  building,  raging  furiously, 
shouted  with  its  thousand  voices: 

"Liberty  for  Hugo  von  Zedlitz!  Freedom  for  the 
savior  of  the  city!     Down  with  traitors!" 

Many  of  the  council  trembled,  terrified  by  their  own 
evil  consciences  and  the  danger  threatening  them. 

The  longer  the  session  lasted;  the  more  wildly  and 
fiercely  the  mob  raged  and  roared,  like  a  surging  sea 
in  the  streets. 

At  last  the  central  window  of  the  Rathhaus  opened, 
the  ruling  Ammeister  appeared  at  it  and  amid  a  death- 
like stilless  announced — that  Hugo  von  Zedlitz  had 
been  found  innocent,  the  sentence  of  banishment  was 
revoked  and  he  himself  restored  to  liberty. 

From  thousands  and  thousands  of  throats  rang  a 
simultaneous:  ■ 

"Hurrah!  hurrah!  hurrah!" 

The  leaders  of  the  guilds  passed  into  the  Rathhaus, 


;'■  344  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  .    .         j       "■ 

and  when  they  returned  with  Hugo  the  cheers  seemed 
as  if  they  would  never  end. 

It  was  the  finest  triumphal  procession  Strassburg 
had  ever  witnessed. 

When  he  passed  the  house  occupied  by  Syndicus 
Frantz,  two  female  figures  were  standing  at  one  of  the 
windows,  waving  white  handkerchiefs— like  the  women 
and  girls  in  almost  all  the  houses — to  greet  the  savior 
of  the  beloved  cit}'. 

How  Hugo's  lieart  thrilled  with  happiness,  how 
overjo3'ed  Alma  was,  she  laughed,  exulted^  yet  tears 
rolled  down  her  cheeks.  But  when  the  procession 
had  passed,  she  sank  into  her  mother's  arms,  sobbing 
aloud. 

"Dear,  dear  child!"  said  the  mother,  pressing  a  kiss 
upon  her  beloved  daughter's  hair.  But  she  let  her 
have  her  fill  of  weeping,  for  these  were  tears  of  the 
highest,  purest,  most  sacred  jo}'. 

Two  hours  later  the  dinner-table  in  the  Syndicus' 
house  stood  read}-.  But  to-day  instead  of  three  plates 
as  usual,  there  were  five. 

Who  the  guests  were  to  be  neither  mother  nor 
daughter  knew,  Syndicus  Frantz  had  merely  sent 
word  to  have  seats  ready  for  two  guests  and  to  set 
forth  ever3'thing  that  the  kitchen  and  cellar  contained. 

Now  all  the  preparations  were  made;  the  table  laid, 
the  dishes  cooked,  the  best  wine  placed  on  a  side 
table — but  the  Syndicus  and  his  guests  did  not  appear. 

Alma  was  alone  in  the  room.   Yesterday  a  mountain 


■.T-!ixy^S;v-Sf^  -■  TSa?F='«3*-jrj-r-:/''V-';^''-"^^np«JSf' 


;^    -  THE  HAPPINESS   OF  LOVE  345 

of  grief  had  oppressed  her  heart,  yesterday  she  sup- 
posed her  lover  far  away,  trembled  with  the  fear  that 
no  opportunity  would  offer  itself  by  which  he  could 
prove  to  his  enemies  and  all  Strassburg  the  injustice 
they  had  done  him  and  that  he  was  no  traitor,  but 
on  the  contrary  possessed  a  heart  full  of  ardent  love 
for  his  native  country!      And  to-day? 

Alma  was  so  absorbed  in  her  reverie  that  she  did. 
not  hear  the  low  knock  at  the  door,  which  was  now 
repeated  for  the  third  time. 

Not  until  the  door  gently  opened  and  a  man's  figure 
appeared,  did  she  start  from  her  dreams. 

But!  Good  Hevens!  What  was  this?  Was  she 
awake  or  asleep? 

Alma  passed  her  hand  across  her  brow — the  vision 
did  not  vanish,  she  was  not  dreaming,  but  awake  and 
this,  this  —was  ... 

"Hugo!"  she  joyousl}^  exclaimed  and — "Alma,  dear, 
dear  Alma!"  now  escaped  young  Zedlitz's  lips  as  he 
hurried  towards  her. 

Alma,  in  her  jo}^  and  surprise,  could  scarcely  under- 
stand what  had  happened;  it  was  her  lover  who  stood 
before  her — it  was  Hugo  von  Zedlitz  who  ventured  to 
greet  her  in  her  parents'  house. 

"Thank  God  that  you  are  back  againi"  said  Alma 
with  radiant  eyes,  as  she  eagerly  clasped  his  proffered 
hand.      Hugo  shook  it  warmly. 

"Yes,  His  name  be  praised!"  he  replied,  "andlhope 
not  to  go  away  again  without  you!" 


"iSaiip*^- '.-'■■ 


^K-i...  '        ■    ".^'^  '     ";:•         -  ■■  -  ■  -    -r-"  .■    'o'*     -T-.  ■  ■  -  ,■   ■■  v;r>'  .^\^'r  r->''-'ij';:;  •■'^--"^  ^?      .V:^«Si»i-^'r^  . 


346  A     KOVAT,    RODPKR  |  .     / 

"And  you  have  ventured,"  she  said,  her  heart  throb- 
bing with  fear,  "to  come  directly  to  this  house  without 
my  father's — " 

"No!  "  he  feplied,  "I  should  not  have  dared  to  do 
so,  but  when  I  left  the  Rathhaus  this'  morning  your 
father  invited  me  to  visit  him  at  this  hour." 

"My  father!  "  exclaimed  Alma  in  joyful  surprise. 

"Yes!" 

"And  he  is  no  longer  angr}^  with  you  because  you 
belong  to  the  Zedlitz  family?" 

"Syndicus  Frantz  was  and  is  a  man  of  honor,"  said 
Hugo  gravely.  "He  felt  that  bitter  injustice  had 
been  done  me — he  has  convinced  himself  that  my  in- 
tentions towards  Strassburg  are  honest  and  it  seems  to 
me  as  if  he  wishes — " 

"To  atone  for  the  wrong  done  you  in  his  absence  hy 
the  magistrates!"  cried  Alma  joyously.  "Oh!  that  is 
like  my  dear  father!" 

"And  indeed,"  said  Hugo,  his  eyes  sparkling  with 
JO)',  "he  can  do  so  in  the  fullest  measure.  Do  you 
know  how?" 

"Hugo,  Hugo!"  faltered  the  young  girl,  while  deep 
blushes  lent  her  sweet  face  the  charm  of  girlish  bash- 
fulness. 

"And  how?"  repeated  the  youth,  taking  her  hands 
and  drawing  her  gently  towards  him — "tell  me?" 

"By  giving  our  love  his  blessing!" 

"Yes,  by  giving  our  love  his  blessing,"  exclaimed 
Hugo  rapturously,  and  suddenly  he  pressed  his  lips  to 


'        ,_  THE   HAPPINESS   OF   LOVE  .  347 

hers,    clasping    the    lovely  girl  in  his  arms    as    if    he 
would  never  release  her  again. 

A  few  minutes  after  the  doors  at  both  ends  of  the 
room  opened  almost  at  the  same  instant,  and  while 
Hedwig  entered  at  one,  two  men  appeared  on  the 
threshold  of  the  other. 

It  was  Syndicus  Frantz  and  the  worthy  tailor, 
Franz  Blasius  Wenck. 

"Why  Hugo!  So  the  young  fellow  is  here  already!" 
exclaimed  Syndicus  Frantz,  who  to-day,  after  a  long 
time,  was  once  more  radiant  with  happiness   and   joy. 

Hedwig  stood  motionless  with  surprise. 

"Yes,  stare! "  cried  the  Syndicus,  turning  to  the 
mother  and  daughter,  "stare  because  I  have  admitted 
the  heir  of  the  Zedlitz  family  to  my  house  and  invited 
him  to  dinner.  But  I  will  try  to  do  all  in  my  power 
to  atone  for  the  wrong  Strassburg  has  inflicted  upon 
Hugo.  He  is  the  preserver  of  our  native  city,  the  hero 
of  the  day;  he  has  saved  Strassburg  at  the  peril  of 
his  life  and  I  should  despise  myself  if  I  extended  the 
hatred  that  divides  the  fathers  to  my  enemy's  son." 

And  holding  out  his  hand  to  young  Zedlitz,  he  added: 

"Welcome,  Hugo;  I  was  your  father's  friend  when 
you  were  still  a  child,  before  political  feuds  separated 
us.  Take  me  once  more  as  your  paternal  friend,  and 
look  upon  my  hou.se  as  your  own.  And  now,  he  con- 
tinued, turning  to  his  wife  and  daughter,  who  were 
still  standing  speechless  with  joyful  surprise — "wel- 
come the  old,  yet  new  friend  of  our  house." 


:  'S-yi^^' "v'T'j^-^'v-fS^P^^  *^r  ^y-"^  V^  T 


348  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  | 

Hedwig  and  Alma  did  not  need  to  be  asked  a  second 
time,  though  Alma  was  so  bewildered  by  all  this  that 
she  could  scarcely  utter  an  intelligible  word.      ! 

"But  who  is  your  second  guest?"  asked  Hedwig. 

"Who?"  exclaimed  the  Syndicus,  "the  man  to  whom, 
next  to  Hugo,  belongs  the  honor  of  the  day!  our 
worthy  Wenck!"  ! 

"Too  much  honor!  Too  much  honor!  Herr  Syndi- 
cus!" cried  the  tailor  and  his  short  figure  with  the 
head  sunk  between  the  shoulders  looked  so  comical  as 
he  bowed  again  and  again,  that  none  of  those  present 
could  help  laughing.  "What  I  did  was  my  duty.  I 
am  only  glad  that  the  affair  turned  out  so  well,  and 
our  brave  young  friend's  honor  was  restored.  Who 
knows  what  good  it  may  do!" 

The  party  now  proceeded  to  dinner.  It  was  not 
luxurious,  but  admirably  arranged  and  accompanied 
with  good  wine.  ■  \ 

The  5'oung  people  were  perfectly  happy,  Hedwig 
alone  seemed  somewhat  troubled.  The  Syndicus,  in 
his  own  joy,  did  not  notice  it  for  a  long  time.  Not 
until  the  meal  was  over  and  many  a  toast  had  been 
prosed:  "The  happiness  and  welfare  of  Strassburg! 
The  German  native  land!  The  brave  deliverer  of 
the  city,"  and  "the  Frantz  family,"  did  he  notice  his 
wife's  grave  face. 

Bending  towards  his  faithful  companion   he    asked. 

"What  is  the  matter,  Hedwig?" 

She  smiled.  "Not  much.  Only  a  thought  was 
passing  through  my  mind."  , 


gP5S»5»aS^:'.-Cp-:--:  ■ '  #,   ^.>.„  .^SEiS^STr 


'      ■■  THE  HAPPINESS   OF  LOVE  349 

"And  what  thought?"  asked  the  Syndicus  gayly— 
"a  good  one  I  am  sure.  You  have  inspired  many  a 
good  thought  during  my  life." 

"Do  you  think  so?" 

"Certainly !  We  men,  in  hastily  pursuing  things  at 
,a  distance,  often  forget  those  which  are  close  at  hand. 
Therefore  a  good,  sensible  wife  is  a  real  blessing;  if 
we  seek  to  soar  on  the  wings  of  our  enthusiasm  into 
the  realms  of  infinite  space,  she  seizes  us  by  the  feet 
and  pulls  us  gently  back,  saying:  'see,  my  friend, 
there  is  still  so  much  to  be  done  here.'  And  we  are 
obliged  to  confess  that  she  is  right.  Many  good  things 
are  required  in  our  immediate  neighborhood  which  we 
should  have  overlooked  but  for  our  wives.  True,  a 
man's  thoughts  often  give  depth  and  space  to  a 
woman's,  but  in  return  the  wife's  often  inspire  the 
man's  with  warmth  and  practical  direction." 

Tears  sparkled  in  the  eyes  of  both.  They  looked 
at  each  other,  bent  forward  and  exchanged  a  loving 
kiss. 

"But  your  thought!  "  exclaimed  the  Syndicus  gayly. 

"Why,"  replied  Hedwig,  "with  the  best  intentions 
we  are  always  somewhat  selfish." 

"Well?  "exclaimed  the  Syndicus  laughing — "what 
does  that  mean?" 

"A  petition." 

"Then  speak,  wife." 

"Well  then,  as  a  wise  woman,  I  •hould  like  to  profit 
by  this  favorable  mood=" 


350  A   ROYAL   ROBBtK 

The  old  gentleman  laughed  heartily,  and  then  asked  : 
"In  what  way?" 

"Why,"  replied  Hedwig,  "you  might  allow  each  of 
us  to  make  some  request  which  you  must  promise  to 
grant." 

Hugo  and  Alma  blushed  scarlet  as  the  smiling 
mother  uttered  these  words. 

"Very  well,"  said  the  Syndicus,  "since  God  has 
given  me  so  happy  a  day,  I  will  gladly  contribute  to 
the  joy  of  others.     What  do  you  think,  Wenck?" 

"Certainly,  Herr  Syndicus,  who  knows  what  good 
it  may  do!" 

"Very  well  then,"  cried  Frantz  gayly,  "but  who  is 
to  begin?" 

"Mother!  mother!"  cried  Alma  in  indescribable 
embarrassment,  turning  pale  as  death. 

"Well  then,  begin,"  said  the  Syndicus.  "What 
petition  shall  I  grant  you?" 

"To  speak  when  our  young  friend  the  deliverer  of 
our  native  city,  has  spoken." 

"Be  it  so.  Well,  Hugo,  what  is  your  request?" 

Hugo  rose  from  his  seat;  a  noble,  manly  earnestness 
was  depicted  In  his  features,  and  his  eyes  sparkled 
with  wondrous  brilliancy. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "I  have  a  request  to  make,  noble 
man,  to  you  who  in  my  childhood  and  now  once  more 
have  received  me  with  fatherly  kindness;  but,  Herr 
Syndicus,  this  is  no  light  jest,  as  you  perhaps  sup- 
pose, but  a  grave,  important    petition   on    which    the 


!:^_ 


THE   HAPPINESS   OF  LOVE  55 1 

happiness  of  my  whole  life  depends.  In  one  word,  my 
friend" — here  Hugo  extended  his  hand  to  the  old  man 
— "make  me  the  happiest  of  mortals,  make  me  your 
son,  give  me  your  daughter,  my  dear,  beloved  Alma?" 

Syndicus  Frantz  looked  as  if  a  thunder-bolt  had 
struck  him.  He  would  have  expected  the  heavens  co 
fall  sooner  than  this  request.  It  was  really  impossible 
for  him  to  regain  his  self  control  immediately.  But 
'what  most  perplexed  the  usually  calm  man  was  the 
very  singular  conduct  of  those  who  surrounded  him. 

Had  wig  did  not  seem  at  all  surprised,  but  smiled 
at  her  husband  quietly  and  confidently  as  if  to  say: 
Come,  consent;  they  love  each  other  so  tenderly,  this 
is  all  that  was  wanting  to  our  domestic  happiness. 

Wenck's  face  also  clearly  expressed:  "Yes,  who 
knows  what  good  it  may  do." 

And  Alma? 

The  lovely  girl  had  started  up,  thrown  herself  at  her 
father's  feet  and  was  now  gazing  into  his  face  with 
such  radiant,  yet  imploring  eyes  that  the  old  gentle- 
man felt  a  strange  emotion — an  emotion  like  that  ex- 
perienced when  he  had  first  looked  deep  down  in  Hed- 
wig's  eyes. 

"But  you,  you!"  cried  the  Syndicus  to  his  wife,  "are 
not  you  at  all  surprised?" 

"No,"   replied    Hedwig,  pressing    a  kiss    upon    her 
husband's  brow.      "Alma  confessed    her    love    to  me  a 
few  days  ago  amid  bitter  tears.     I    was    only    waiting' 
for    a    suitable  opportunity  to  tell  you  the    secret    of 


^Vri-'i-^^f;^'"- 


352  A    ROYAL   KOBBER 

her  little  heart,  but  could  find  none,  until  to-day  a 
happy  fate  so  unexpectedly  unites  us,  that  I  cannot 
help  seeing  God's  hand  in  the  work.  So  my  request 
is:     give  them  to  each  other." 

"And  mine  too,  Herr  S3ndicus"  exclaimed  Wenck 
with  innimitable  pathos;  "give  them  to  each  other; 
who  knows  what  good  it  may  do!"  -         ' 

All  laughed  heartily,  but  Syndicus  Franz  remarked: 

"So  your  requests  have  melted  into  one,"  and  the 
tender  look  granted  what  the  lips  had  not  yet  uttered. 

"Yes,"  they  all  exclaimed,  "and  our  request  is 
granted ! "  1 

"Ah!"  sighed  the  Syndicus,  "last  night  I,  with  the 
little  ship  of  State,  escaped  a  political  conspiracy,  to 
succumb  to-day  in  my  own  house.  Well,  be  it  so!  I 
give  my  blessing  to  your  love.  But  the  blessing  of 
the  church  and  the  marriage  must  be  deferred  until 
the  fate  of  our  dear  native  city  is  decided.  This  is 
no  time  for  love-making  and  festivity,  it  is  the  hour 
of  watching  and  conflict.  On  the  day  that  makes  us 
free  again,  you,  my  children,  shall  become  man  and 
wife." 

Hugo  did  not  take  his  leave  until  evening.  Alma 
accompanied  him  to  the  door,  but  before  she  opened 
it,  they  again  bade  each  other  farewell. 

"Do  you  know  how  I    feel    at    this    instant?"  asked 
Alma  gently. 
'     "How?  "  replied  Hugo.  I 

"I  feel,"  continued    Alma,    as    if    in    a   dream,  "as 


■^     '        ■■■-":       :■    V  ■  p  ■- 

.,*       'V  THE    HAPPINESS    OK    I.OVE  353 

though  I  were  pressing  towards  the  light,  like  the 
seed  that  has  Iain  concealed  in  the  earth  during  long. 
long  winter,  and  is  now  kissed  by  the  spring  sun." 

"Your  soul  breathes  immortality,"  replied  Hugo, 
"because  you  love." 

He  pressed  an  ardent  kiss  upon  the  lips  of  his  be- 
trothed bride  and  hurried  away. 

He  hastened  out  into  the  darkness — but  the  dark- 
ness was  light  to  him,  the  tempest  a  gentle  zephyr; 
for  spring  is  the  life  of  love,  and  love  the  spring  of 
life.  If  you  dwell  in  love,  light  and  eternal  spring 
will  dwell  in  you! 


23    Robbtr 


<^?i«f'>°^'*^5* 


_f»  S^"^- 


■«J   X 


-        f 


PART  V.  I 

DARK  PATHS.  i 

CHAPTER  X. 

THE  SUITOR. 

The  conspiracy  centered  in  the  monastery  at  Strass- 
biirg  had  indeed  been  an  alarm  to  the  citizens.  Those 
who  had  hitherto  remained  blind  to  the  designs  of  France 
were  compelled  to  see  the  truth.  The  victory  of  the 
German  party,  the  pariotic  magistrates,  was — at  least 
for  the  moment — complete.  Giinzer  went  as  the  saying 
goes,  up  to  his  neck  in  water.  He  and  his  part}'  had 
not  only  strongly  compromised  themselves  by  the 
banishment  of  Hugo  von  Zedlitz,  but  Giinzer  himself 
had  barely,  as  if  by  a  miracle,  escaped  the  discovery 
of  his  treason.  This  consciousness  oppressed  the 
usually  daring  man,  as  the  consciousness  of  their  own 
guilt  weighed  upon  many  of  the  other  magistrates, 
who  through  his  influence  had  been  bribed  and  bought 
by  France.  .  1. 

The  opposition  to  Syndicus  Frantz  and  the  patriotic 
party  therefore  died  away  during  the  first  few  days 
after  the  discovery  of  the  conspiracy,  n^y  the  influence 

85i 


'^tskliauaii^^ii 


■  r__   .  -  ■-  ,  - .  ::l  ■  - .^v^^^i^ t^^t:^:?^- ■■-?*>/r>~  -'  "     ■' ■  " '-v" '  -"■■  <^"^-".;.'"-'-^^-v;'..- .  ■  -'■ 

: ; -^^  V    ::  ;     •     THE    SUITOR  '  355 

of  the  latter  suddenly  became  predominant.  They 
were  backed  by  almost  the  entire  population  of  the 
city. 

What  Hugo  von  Zedlitz  had  accomplished  with  his 
few  followers,  each  individual  soon   attributed    to    his 
own  energy,   and  this  consciousness  of  heroic   courage  _. 
increased  till  it  reached  an  open  defiance    of     France. 

The  work  of  arming  the  guilds  was  prosecuted  with 
great  zeal.  Their  rooms  were  transformed  into  a  mili- 
tary bureau.  Contributions  of  money  to  procure 
weapons  were  taken,  and  certain  Iionrs  designated  for 
drill.  The  citizens  undertook  the  daiy  of  mounting 
guard  three  days  out  of  the  week. 

All  was  fire  and  flame,  only  nothing  was  conducted 
in  the  right  way,  because  everything  was  managed 
hastily  and  without  reflection. 

Little  attention  was  paid  to  whether  the  weapons 
obtained  were  suitable  or  not,  if  they  were  only 
secured. 

Whether  the  characters  of-  many  men  afforded  a 
guarantee  that  they  could  be  relied  on  — in  case  of  any 
serious  struggle — was  not  asked,  if  only  the  ranks 
were  well  filled.  There  was  little  subordination  too, 
as  was  natural.  Citizen  stood  beside  citizen,  and — 
was  not  all  voluntary  service? 

Besides  each  guild  managed  its  own  affairs;  there 
was  no  thought  of  a  firm  bond  between  them,  the  sub- 
jection of  all  to  one  commander.  Now  and  then,  it  is 
true,  Hugo  von  Zediitz's  name   was  mentioned.     But 


i:^.-mji.^Li7,;2i*i-'  i*aiS«!^ro^^rieaJT--i^'.^^; 


356         ."  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  '  - 

no  steps  were  taken  to  make  him  their  leader.  One 
thought  him  too  young,  another  too  impetuous;  some 
objected  to  his  father,  others  to  his  noble  name. 

Strassburg,  at  least  in  name,  was  a  little  republic — 
but,  where  were  the  real  republicans? 

Giinzer  was  clever  enough  to  perceive  this.  So  when 
the  first  surprise  and  alarm  were  over,  he  quickly 
regained  his  self-command.  His  diplomatic  genius 
did  not  desert  him  and — accommodating  himself  to 
the  situation  and  the  moment — he  looked  on  with  a 
smile  at  the  excited  activity  of  his  fellow  citizens. 

He  well  knew  that  the  flickering  light  of  this  torch  of 
popular  excitement,  that  rises  almost  to  the  sky  to — 
sink  again  all  the  more  speedily. 

He  was  less  at  ease  about  the  influence  Hugo  von 
Zedlitz  had  obtained  over  the  populace,  and  which 
the  young  man — though,  preparing  for  his  legal  exam- 
ination, he  led  a  very  secluded  life — knew  how  to 
maintain. 

As  soon  as  Giinzer  was  certain  that  he  had  not  been 
cornpi'omised,  he  softly  and  imperceptibly  took  the 
reins  in  his  hands  again.  At  first  this  was  accom- 
plished without  opposition,  nay  even  with  the  sem- 
blance of  achange  in  his  views.  But  the  crafty  man 
was  only  giving  the  people  time  to  rave  away  their 
patriotic  intoxication. 

Of  course  Giinzer's  creatures,  as  well  as  himself, 
were  not  inactive.  Money  flowed  into  the  pockets  of 
the  people  and  when  were  men  inaccessible  to  bribes? 


'<■  ifciJfi!J.",-.'i*ii*t(:'.-»^.'. 


THE    SUITOR  357 

But  having  advanced  so  far,  Giinzer  stood  forth  again 
with  the  old,  nay  even  with  redoubled  energy  to 
recover  the  lost  ground.  Frantz  and  his  party  strug- 
gled agaiiriit  this  new  attack  with  all  their  strength; 
but  the  period  of  bewilderment  on  the  part  of  the 
undecided  '  faction  was  over,  and  the  old  instinct  as 
well  as  secret  obligations  led  them  to  cling  to  their 
old  leader.  And  now  ah  event  occurred  which  greatly 
strengthened  the  courage  of  the  adherents  of  France 
and  correspondingly  depressed  their  opponents.  The 
court  of  France,  with  the  king  at  its  head,  while  on 
a  pleasure* tour,  suddenly  appeared  at  the  neighboring 
cit)''  of  Colmar,  settled  there  to  make  a  prolonged 
stay,  and  overwhelmed  Strassburg  with  tokens  of 
friendship. 

Frantz  and  his  followers,  Hugo  von  Zedlitz,  Wenck, 
and  many  other  honorable  men,  saw  through  the 
maneuver  and  warned  their  fellow  citizens,  but  the 
cries  of  the  Giinzer  faction  and  the  vanity  of  the 
flattered  burghers  made  their  voices  die  away  without 
avail. 

Ere  it  could  be  foreseen,  affairs  in  Strassburg  were 
precisely  in  the  same  state  that  they  had  been  before 
the  conspiracy  in  the  monastery.  Giinzer  was  again 
master  of  the  magistrates. 

Meantime,  however,  another  drama  which  was  con- 
fined within  the  limits  of  family  life,  had  been  secretly 
arranged  under  Giinzer's  eyes, 

Giinzer  was  of  humble    origin.      When    a    child,  his 


.  \:ii^ii^l;f'X^b§:ft^^2^'^idiS^!]:^%^^:^ ' '. 


^=18  '  A    BOVAL    ROBBER  '  >         I 

father  filled  the  office  of  assessor  at  the  meetings  of 
the  twenty  guilds.  But,  as  it  was  discovered  that  he 
betrayed  and  sold  their  secrets  for  money,  he  was 
expelled  in  disgrace. 

A  still  darker  shadow  rested  upon  the  Giinzer 
family  in  consequence  of  an  incident  connected  with 
the  assessor's  brother  This  man — the  uncle  of  the 
present  Giinzer — was  accused  of  counterfeiting.  He 
fled  to  the  other  side  of  the  Rhine  but  was  seized  and 
brought  back  to  Strassburg.  Scarcely,  however,  had 
he  reached  the  bridge,  when  he  escaped  from  his 
guards,  sprang  over  the  railing  into  the  river,  and 
was  drowned. 

As  for  Giinzer— who  now  played  so  important  a  part 
in  the  affairs  of  Strassburg — his  parents  left  him  in 
the  most  destitute  circumstances.  He  was  a  boy  of 
intelligence,  but  of  most  crafty  character.  An  or- 
phan, he  would  doubtless  have  speedily  gone  to  ruin, 
if  the  ancient  family  of  Zorn  von  Plobsheim  and  that 
of  von  Bernhold,  which  was  closely  connected  with 
the  von  Plobsheim,  had  not  kindl}^  received  him. 

Giinzer  was  treated  precisely  like  a  child  of  the 
house,  educated  and  placed  in  the  various  institutions 
of  learning.  His  great  ability  soon  displayed  itself, 
so  that  his  patrons  not  only  loaded  him  with  favors, 
but  Herr  von  Bernhold  placed  him  on  almost  precisely 
the  same  footing  as  his  oldest  son. 

At  the  time  Turenne  was  celebrating  his  great  suc- 
cess in    Alsace,     Herr    von    Bernhold    was    sheriff    of 


^r'.^ntSaS^TAiJ'iimmja'-VM. 


.-;:—;'•,."  ^  '  THK  SUITOR  359 

Strassburg  and,  as  e^'en  then,  it  was  necessar}^  to  use 
every  precaution  to  protect  the  city  against  the  ever 
increasing  power  of  Louis  XIV,  a  young  man  with 
good  legal  and  diplomatic  ability  was  sent  to  the 
French  court.  Herr  von  Bernhold  selected  for  this 
purpose  Giinzer,  believing  that  his  numerous  and  con- 
stant favors  had  bound  him  to  his  interests. 

After  Herr  von  Bernhold  had  supplied  his  prot^g^ 
with  the  necessary  authority  from  the  government, 
and  provided  him  liberally  with  means  to  defraj^  the 
expenses  of  the  journey  and  a  long  residence  in  Paris, 
he  explained  the  diplomatic  career  he  was  to  inau- 
gurate with  the  Comte  de  Reuvigny. 

Comte  de  Reuvigny,  in  consequence  of  Herr  von 
Bernhold's  recommendation,  procured  Giinzer  the 
acquaintance  of  several  prominent  individuals  at  the 
court,  especially  that  of  the  Marquis  de  Louvois. 
The  minister's  keen  eye  instantly  read  Giinzer 's  char- 
acter and  as  he  saw  in  the  young  man  an  admirable 
tool  for  his  extensive  plans,  honored  him  with  his 
special  confidence.  Matters  went  so  far  that  Giinzer 
was  called  "le  mignon  connu  de  la  France." 

But  Giinzer  seemed  to  have  used  his  influence  only 
in  favor  of  his  native  city.  Absolute  confidence  on  the 
part  of  the  magistrates  rewarded  his  skill  and  zeal, 
and  thus  it  happened  that  on  his  return  to  Strassburg, 
he  was  appointed  first  clerk  to  the  city  and  afterwards 
to  the  council.  Of  course  all  foreign  affairs,  especiall}' 
the  business  with  France,  were  entrusted  to  the  clever 


•  •'si^^.^i^i^iy'ii^^-'l:.^L:?^i:j^i^!ii^Ji^.^'^-^^'i:^ 


-,•..'  '  '         '  -     ^       *"■■.'"-'  ■ 

360  A    KOVM,    HORBF.I^ 

diplomat,  the  man  honored  by  the  favor  of  Louvois, 
What  a  web  of  treachery  Giinzer  spun,  by  what  vast 
sums  he  was  bribed  to  aid  by  voice  in  the  meetings 
of  the  magistrates,  the  fall  of  Strassburg  and  the 
delivery  of  this  important  German  city  to  France,  we 
already  know.  Besides  Louvois  had  promised  him  in 
case  of  success  the  ofifice  of  Syndicus  and  Director  ch 
affairs  in  Strassburg. 

This  was  Gunzer's  conduct  to  the  government  and 
his  native  city — but  how  did  he  treat  his  benefactot 
and  his  family? 

When  Giinzer,  as  a  3'oung  man,  found  himself  a 
member  of  the  family  of  Herr  von  Bernhold,  and  the 
latter — his  benefactor,  his  second  father — reposed  the 
utmost  confidence  in  him,  and  also  afterwards  when 
the  old  gentleman  died  and  his  son,  with  whom  Giin- 
zer had  been  educated,  became  the  head  of  the  family, 
he  was  entrusted,  among  other  things,  with  the  legal 
documents  of  the  families  of  von  Benihold  and  von 
Zorn.  The  clever  young  man  was  also  specially  com- 
missioned to  examine  the  papers  and  legal  documents 
belonging  to  the  Plobsheim  property,  about  which 
many  discussions  had  arisen. 

But  the  younger  Herr  von  Bernhold  also  died  sud- 
denly and  unexpectedly.  His  widow,  a  member  of  the 
von  Zorn  family,  was  inconsolable.  Robbed  of  her 
natural  protector  in  these  troubled  times,  she  turned, 
assured  that  Giinzer  was  devoted  to  her  whole  family, 
to  him.   and  chose  him  for  her  trustee  and  adviser. 


.T%^-ilii-^.s^^'^  i-r 


■  seS'^Ps  ™>.^™'?^^  ■'■  .^- 1    -- '■  -  ^^-  -^^^ 


THE    SUITOR  361 

Now  that  tnis  man  was  dead,  Frau  von  Bernhold  a 
widow,  the  family  without  head  or  support,  Giinzer 
purloined  the  papers  relating  to  the  Plobsheim 
property,  in  order  to  obtain  possession  of  it    himself. 

Those  were  bright,  beautiful,  summer  days  which 
Alma,  the  lovely  daughter  of  Syndicus  Frantz,  spent 
in  a  visit  at  Plobsheim. 

Both  families  had  long  been  on  intimate  terms,  and 
Hedwig  and  Alma  considered  it  a  duty,  after  the 
recent  death  of  the  younger  Herr  von  Bernhold,  to 
console  the  young,  deeply  mourning  widow. 

Hedwig  could  not  leave  her  husband^  but  Alma  had 
time  to  devote  several  weeks  to  her  afflicted  friend,  so 
Hedwig  had  brought  her  to  Plobsheim  some  time  be- 
fore, and  she  willingly  filled  the  place  of  an  affection- 
ate comforter. 

Alma's  frank,  simple  nature,  which  had  inherited 
from  the  Syndicus  the  great  art  of  confining  everything 
unlovely,  painful,  and  perplexing  within  the  narrowest 
limits,  that  room  might  be  obtained  for  a  free,  broad 
life,  seemed  to  have  been  created  for  this  office. 

Yet  it  did  not  escape  the  notice  of  the  Syndicus' 
daughter,  that  a  cloud  of  deep  sadness  often  rested 
upon  the  little  lady's  head.  But  this  cloud — Alma's 
feminine  keenness  instanth' perceived — was  not  caused 
by  grief,  but  by  anxiety,  which  Frau  von  Bernhold 
had  hitherto  concealed  from  her  young  friend. 

It  was  Sunday.  Frau  von  Bernhold  and  Alma  were 
sitting  at  a  window  of  the  stately  castle  of  Plobsheim, 


.,     3^2 


A    ROYAL    ROBBER 


the  center  of  the  beautiful  estate  of  which    the  young 
widow  was  now  sole  mistress. 

This  young  widow  was  still  a  beautiful  woman.  Her 
limbs  and  figure  were  delicately  moulded,  her  features 
possessed  a  winning  sweetness,  so  that  she  could  justly 
be  called  a  very  pretty  woman.  Moreover  she  pos- 
sessed a  gentle  loving  nature,  had  been  a  tender,  faith- 
ful wife  to  her  husband,  and  was  a  good  mother  to  her 
children. 

In  intellect,  energy  and  vitality,  it  is  true,  Frau 
von  Bernhold  was  far  surpassed  by  Alma,  but  as  she 
had  retained  her  purity  of  soul,  the  difference  in  years 
between  the  two  was  scarcely  perceptible. 

They  sat  side  by  side,  busied  with  some  piece  of 
fancy-work,  while  the  gentle  breeze  bore  the  fragrance 
of  the  flowers  and  the  sounds  of  the  bells,  ringing  for 
afternoon  service,  through  the  open  window. 

There  was  something  infinitely  pathetic  in  the  merry 
playing,  laughing  and  shouting  of  little  ones  in  the 
deepest  mourning — the  thought  of  the  irreparable  loss 
they  had  sustained,  and  Vv'hich  they  did  not  even  sus- 
pect. And  yet  the  sight  of  them  must  have  afforded 
the  mother  consolation ;  they  w^ere  the  living  images 
of  her  dead  husband  —while  the}'  were  a  constant  ad- 
monition to  bestow  on  the  poor,  fatherless  little  ones 
a  double  share  of  tenderness,  rear  them  to  be  worthy 
of  their  father. 

When  the  children  smiled,  waved  their  little  hands, 
and  cried  'mother!"  tears  gushed    from    the    widow's 


.-■ir^Si^^^tie^-ssJlSmMiffi^^i^^iiiiiai . . 


THE   SUITOR  •  363 

eyes.  Mother!  echoed  in  the  young  widow's  heart.. 
and  with  the  sound  a  voice  also  cried:  "They  no 
longer  have  a'  father,  they  have  only  you;  you  their 
mother,  to  provide  for  their  education,  their  defense 
against  the  wicked  world,  the  maintenance  of  their 
imperiled  rights. 

And  this  was  what  pressed  like  a  mountain  on  Frau 
von  Bernhold's  soul. 

Alma  did  not  utter  a  word,  but  let  the  poor  lady 
cry  quietly. 

Giinzer,  as  he  declared,  had  not  yet  found  among 
the  family  papers  the  documents  that  secured  to  the 
Bernhold  family  undoubted  possession  of  the  beautiful 
estate  of  Plobsheim. 

Old  Herr  Bernhold,  Giinzer' s  benefactor  and  second 
father,  had  long  since  declared  with  the  utmost 
certainty,  that  these  papers  must  be  in  existence,  must 
at  least  be  found  somewhere. 

Everything  depended  upon  the  discovery  of  the 
documents,  since  the  Reunions- Kammern  demanded 
them.  If  they  could  not  be  shown,  the  worst  might 
be  expected  from  the  French  government,  whose  un- 
just decisions  in  Alsace  were  well-known. 

Thus  the  whole  means  of  existence  of  the  mother 
and  that  of  her  children  was  at  stake;  for  though  the 
family  possessed  other  property,  the  estate  of  Plobs- 
heim was  by  far  the  large  portion. 

Alma  listened  to  this  communication  with  a  throb- 
bing heart.     She,  too,  now  felt  great  anxiety  about  the 


::K=L.«!s;,,^ii 


,  Sr^i:-  ■^lOiJ^l'' 


'•*5vW ' 


364  A    ROYAL    ROBBER 

young  widow's  situation;  but  another  ^  thought 
oppressed  her  still  more,  the  thought  that  the  whole 
affair  was  in  Giinzer's  hands. 

Giinzer — of  whose  treacherous  designs  towards  Strass- 
burg  the  Frantz  family  were  morally  certain,  though 
no  piece  of  rascality  had  been  proved  against  him,  who 
had  treated  Hugo  von  Zedlitz  so  shamefully — was  a 
terror  to  Alma.  To  her  pure,  innocent,  childlike  soul, 
there  was  something  fiendish  about  him. 

Alma  covdd  not  help  giving  a  slight  warning  against 
Giinzer. 

"Are  you  sure  of  his  honesty?     she  asked  at  last. 

"Certain  of  his  devotion  to  our  family,"  the  widow 
replied.  "Giinzer  owes  all  he  is  and  has  to  my  dead 
father-in-law  and  my  own  father.  My  husband  loaded 
him  Vv'ith  favors.  " 

Alma  sighed,  but  was  silent;  it  seemed  wrong  to 
shake  such  well-founded  confidence. 

At  the  same  mc^ment  the}  saw  two  horsemen  turn 
from  the  main  road  into  the  avenue  leading  to  the 
castle. 

The  two  ladies  looked  intently  at  them  and  turned 
pale. 

They  were  Giinzer  and  his  brother-in-law,  Kampffer. 

Both  ladies'  hearts  throbbed  wildly,  they  knew  not 
why. 

A  second  glance  through  the  window  showed  them 
that  Kampffer  went  on  as  if  intending  to  pass  round 
the  castle,  v/];»ile  Giinzer  came  towards  it. 


jx,jt,'»<(i^i^::M.,x<-:?ifoju-i«a..  i.  >^^j..>S  .^Z.K^'^Hi.1SiMl:^.^'^idans^C..M..Jl.^..  ... 


^        .  THE    SUITOR  365 

Alma  begged  permission  to  withdraw  to  her  own 
room,  and  Frau  von  Bernhold,  anticipating  a  business 
inteview,  made  no  objection. 

A  few  minutes  after-,  Giinzer  entered. 

"You  doubtless  bring  me  good  news!"  said  the  young 
widow,  after  the  first  greetings  had  been  exchanged, 
while  a  faint  flush — a  pale  reflection  of  her  former 
bloom — suffused  her  cheeks,  and  in  contrast  with  her 
black  dress,  gave  her  a  peculiar  charm. 

"Good  news  certainly,"  replied  Giinzer  cordially, 
"if  you  recieve  it  favorably." 

"Why  should  I  not" — continued  Frau  von  Bernhold, 
"in  my  desolate,  sorrowful  position  I  greatly  need  it. 
You  know  this  very  well,  Herr  Gtinzer.      But  sit  down.  " 

"In  what  does  your  news  consist,"  the  widow  re- 
sumed,  "I  suppose  something  In  relation  to  Plobsheim. 

"It  has  one  relation  to  it,"  replied  Giinzer  with  a 
peculiar  smile  and  a  courtesy  Frau  von  Bernhold  was 
not  in  the  habit  of  noticing  in  his  manner. 

"One  relation."  • 

"Yes." 

"And  the  other?" 

"Permit  me,  madame,  to  speak  of  that  later." 

"As  you  choose.  But  don't  keep  me  on  the  rack. 
How  stands  the  affair  of  the  documents?  ~  Have  you 
found  them?.  Since  my  husband's  death,  this  matter 
has  weighed  upon  me  like  a  mountain,  not  for  my 
own  sake,  Heaven  knows,  but  that  of  my  poor,  father- 
less children." 


'  "  ■  "        -■■    '-■'''       '-'     .'    '-i 

366  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  .    j'  • 

Tears  flowed  from  the  eyes  of  the  young  widow. 

Giinzer  cast  a  strange  glance  at  her,  a  look  of 
blended  defiance  and  triumph. 

"You  must  console  yourself!  "  he  said.  "The  fact 
cannot  be  altered,  and  it  is  useless  to  yield  to  sorrow. " 

"Life  has  lost  everything  for  me!"  replied  the 
widow  sadly. 

"You  go  too  far,"  rejoined  Giinzer.  "Time  brings 
solace  for  every  grief.  You  are  still  young  and  beauti- 
ful, madame. " 

"Gunzer!" 

"You  maj-  yet  be  happy." 

"And  3'ou  say  that,  you  knew  my  dear  husband  so 
well,  who  were  educated  with  him?" 

"Yes!  "replied  Giinzer,.  watching  her.  "He  was 
indeed  a  good  and  very  estimable  man.  But  eveything 
in  life  may  be  supplied."  ; 

"Nothing  will  supply  my  husband's  place,"  said  the 
widow  in  a  low  tone,  while  tears  again  filled  her  eyes. 

"Time  will  teach  j^ou  to  think  otherwise.  No  wave 
rises  and  falls,  whose  place  may  not  be  supplied." 

"That  compr^rison  may  suit  life  and  our  position  in 
it,"  replied  Frau  von  Bernhold.  'but  not  a  loving 
heart.  However,  let  that  pass,  Herr  Giinzer,  and  calm 
my  anxiet}'  about  the  matter  we  have  just  mentioned." 

Giinzer  darted  a  piercing  glance  at  thf  young  widow, 
and  then  said  curth':  i 

"It  is  in  a  very  bad  condition.  !    '      1 

'        j  ■ 

Frau  von  Bernhold  turned  pale.  1 


i^.'i*     ,.5«»^uKL.iA    .-Sfi-w.. 


THE    SUITOR  .„  -3^^^ 

"What!"  she  said,  scarcely  able  to  control  her  voice, 
"didn't  you  say  just  now  that  you  had  good  news?" 

"If  you  would  favorably  receive  the  proposition  I 
have  to  make." 

"I  don't  understand  you !  Haven't  you  found  the 
documents,  which  afford  incontestable  proofs  of  our 
right  to  Plobsheim?" 

"No!" 
-     "But,  good  Heavens!      They  must  be  there!" 

"I  have  already  searched  for  them  for  years!  " 

"And  earned  in  return  our  sincere  gratitude,  but — 
have  you  examined  everything?" 

"Every  nook  and  corner,  every  parchment!" 

"Giinzer!"  exclaimed  Frau  von  Bernhold  in  uncon- 
trolable  agitation,  "you  know  how  much  depends  upon 
the  discovery  of  those  papers." 

"I  know!"  he  replied  with  icy  composure.  "Every- 
thing. If  the  title  to  the  estate  is  not  found,  Plobs- 
heim will  be  lost  to  you." 

"And  I  and  my  children?" 

"There  are  means  of  defending  yourself !" 

"No,  no,"  cried  the  young  widow,  "there  is  still  a 
just  God,  who  will  not  suffer  bold  hands  to  rob  a 
widow  and  her  children." 

"France  and  her'  Chambers  de.  Reunion  consider  it 
no  robbery.  On  the  contrary!  To  secure  legal  pos- 
session of  property,  they  require  legal  proofs  of  owner- 
ship" 

■"And  they  must  bf»  there!     My  father  and  father-in- 


j$rt-ids^'r:;^ ■  .     -■  -  \'2liiS2^i::^i^w:^^'^-^-:'i 


368  *  A    ROYAL    ROBPER  '  |  ■ 

-      i 

law,  as  well  as  man^'  members  of  the  Bernhold  and 
Zorn  families,  clearly  remember  having  seen  them 
with  their  own  eyes." 

Giinzer's  face  darkened,   and  he  said  as  if  wounded: 

"Do  you  distrust  me,  madame!  Or  do  you  think  me 
negligent  in  this  important  matter?" 

'Certainly  not!"  cried  Frau  von  Bernhold  in  alarm 
—  Giinzer  was  her  sole  support  in  the  matter.  "But 
you  might,  perhaps,  have  overlooked  the  papers.  Per- 
haps they  have  been  pushed  aside — perhaps " 

"Here  are  the  keys  to  both  chests!"  said  Giinzer 
gravely.       "Pray     search    them     yourself,      madame." 

"How  could  I?     And—" 

"Then  choose  some  other  legal  adviser." 

"Giinzer?" 

"You  do  not  trust  me." 

'"How  can  you  say  so?  Will  you  desert  me,  the 
widow  of  the  man  with  whom  you  were  reared  like  a 
brother,  desert  me  and  his  poor  children,  now,  when 
an  attempt  is  made  to  rob  us  of  our  property,  the 
estate  of  Plobsheim,  which  we  have  owned  for  cen- 
tunes? 

"No!"  said  Giinzer' with  a  sudden  touch  of  cordiality, 
beneath  which,  however,  lurked  something  that  pro- 
duced an  uncomfortable  impression,  "no,  that  I  will 
not,  but  precisely  the  contrary." 

"Good  Heavens!"  exclaimed  Frau  von  Bernhold  joy- 
ously, "then  you  know  of  some  expedient.  Perhaps  you 
have  discovered  a   way    to    tear    Plobshiem    from   the 


5?^;>\   " 


THE    SUITOR  369 

greedy  hands  of  the  R^uniofis  Kammern.  If  It  requires 
sacrifice,  I  will  gladly  make  them  for  my  children." 

"I  don't  think  the  affair  can  be  termed  a  sacrifice." 

"What  affair?" 

"Let  me  speak  plainly." 

"Pray  do  so." 

"France  is  not  to  be  trifled  with." 

"Who  does  not  know  that." 

"Therefore  the  utmost  exertions  must  be  made  to 
retain  possession  of  the  castle  and  estate  of  Plobsheim, 
together  with  the  title  and  rights  of  nobility  apper- 
taining to  it;  for  the  person  to  whom  Plobsheim  is 
assigned  receives  the  title  and  privileges  of  a  noble- 
man, an  owner  of  the  seineurie  de  Plobsheim." 

"That  would  be—" 

"Madame,  that  is  so!  Unfortunately.  But  we  have 
examples  enough." 

"But  pray—" 

"Let  us  keep  to  the  fact  We  must  always  subject 
the  feelings  to  calm  reason,  and  not  confound  our  own 
idea  of  right  with  that  the  law   recognizes   as  right." 

"But—"  . 

"Therefore  the  utmost  exertions  must  be  made  to 
retain  possession  of  Plobsheim.  But  this  is  difficult 
and  dangerous.  Difficult,  because  the  title  deeds  are 
missing — dangerous,  because  the  enmity  of  France 
threatens  us  in  the  backgroupd. " 

"Louvois  is  your  friend.'" 

"I  too  rely  upon  that." 

24     Robber 


■■■^Wai'ulSK-^'^ffiiivJ^ 


m:  --^S^afr- ' 


370       ^  A    KOYAI-    ROBBER  |  }~ 

"And  you  will  do  your  utmost  for  me  and  my 
children?" 

"Yes — on  one  condition." 

"And  that  is?" 

"Let  us  make  common  cause." 

Frau  von  Bernhold  looked  at  him  in    astonishment. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  she  asked.  "I  don't  under- 
stand." 

"Why — you  are  a  widow—"  "  - 

"Unhappily!" 

"And  I~"  j 

Frau  von  Bernhold  did  not  believe  her, ears. 

"You  have  the  kindness  to  act  as  my  legal  adviser," 
she  answered,  turning  deadly  pale.  { 

"Yes,"  continued  Giinzer.  "But  I  am  also  clerk  of 
the  city  and  council  of  Strassburg,  a  man  who  can 
show  a  very  pretty  property,    and — is  unmarried." 

"But  what  has  that  to  do  with  our  affair? 

"A  great  deal.  I  will  pledge  myself  to  retain  pos- 
session of  Plobsheim  if — we  make  common  cause— that 
is,  if  you  will  give  me  your  hand  as  my  wife." 

A  loud  cry  escaped  the  widow's  lips.  Alma's  warn- 
ing darted  through  her  mind.  The  turf  was  still 
fresh  on  the  mound  that  covered  her  dear  husband's 
corpse,  and  Gunzer,  the  son  of  a  dishonored  man,  the 
nephew  of  a  base  counterfeiter,  who,  raised  from  the. 
dust  by  her  family,  dared — not  only  to  sue  for  her 
hand,  no  it  was  now  clear  as  daylight;  the  miserable 
wretch  wooed  her,  to  obtain  possession  of  the  Plobs- 
beixn  estate,  i 


!^''4'i^^.v£ii^;£'^i£il<:-£^.'V.  V.T.  ■J^'f^i^^'i^tari'^a^^Mi'^. 


THE   SUITOR  371 

This  was  too  much  for  a  simple,  honest  nature,  too 
much  for  a  lady  like  Frau  von  Bernhold,  too  much  for 
a  loving  wife,  whose  bleeding  heart  still  mourned  for 
her  lost  husband,  too  much  for  a  mother,  who  saw 
her  children's  rightful  inheritance  threatened  by  the 
rapacious  greed  of  a  scoundrel. 

Proudly,  but  pale  as  death,  she  rose  from  her  seat, 
and  grasped  the  keys  of  the  chests  containing  the 
family  documents,  which  Giinzer  had  laid  on  the 
table  before  her.  Then,  with  a  dignity  usually  foreign 
to  the  little  ladv's  manner,  she  said: 

"Herr  Giinzer,  you  are  dismissed!  I  will  select 
another  legal  adviser." 

Giinzer  had  also  risen.  His  face  was  livid,  his  eyes 
darted  piercing  glances,  an  expression  of  cold,  diabol- 
ical scorn  hovered  around  his  lips.  Yet  his  voice 
trembled  as  he  cried:      "Consider  what  you  do!" 

"I  consider  but  one  thing!"  replied  Frau  von  Bern- 
hold,  "that  there  is  still  a  God  of  eternal  justice. 
,    "And  you  really  refuse  my  hand?" 

"I  have  only  a  contemptuous  j^es  in  response  to  a 
question  so  insulting." 

"Consider  your  future  and  that  of  your  children." 

"Widows  and  orphans  are  in  God's  hands  " 

"You  will  repent  this  some  da}'." 

"Never, "  cried  the  widow  proudly,  "even  if  you,  who 
thrived  on  the  benefits  of  my  family,  intend  some 
knavish  trick  against  me  and  my  children." 

With  these  words,    Frau    von    Bernhold,  trembling 


.  -^X^^J^^S-i^^^ 


; ",  [-" ^p^ i -^,.",-ii~ *?-.---«?:??'^^^^i!S"- -! --.^.- ."*t^'-^- 


%    i 


372 


A    KOY.Vr,    ROBBER 


from  head  to  foot,  left  the  room,  to  give  way  to   pas- 
sionate tears. 


.,.■■"  ..-ii'--;<  *» 


^:^<:.i^^'.L^':^  .'^ 


4«j55^5IJS??i<!fjv?5":'»  ;'?r 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE  witch's   kitchen. 

"How  much  time  yet,  d'Auvaux?" 

"Ten  minutes." 

"The  deuce!     I  thought  the  hour  must  have  come." 

"Time  creeps  for  those  who  wait,  and  flies  for  those 
who  feast." 

"It  will  certainly  fly  only  too  quickl}',  for  the  per- 
son for  whom  we're  brewing  this  broth." 

"I  wasn't  talking  of  such  enjoyment." 

"And  yet  it  is  one." 
.    "Of  course,  Le  Sage,  you're  right — a  double  one. 

"How  so?" 

"Why  a  confoundedly  bitter  one  for  the  person  who 
tastes  the  bitter  drink,  and  a  more  consoling  one  to 
the  individual — who  offers  it." 

"At  any  rate  the  latter  is  sure  of  his  point." 

"I  think  we  do  honor  to  our  art." 

"But  the  art  does  none  to  us." 

"Because  we  are  fools." 

"Fools?" 

"Of  course!     Don't  we  workforLa  Voisin  instead  of 

ourselves?  " 

"Well,  she  pays  well." 

373 


^V'^       -^^W^  *        -   ^^w»^,S5M:5»'^p^^JH^«^-»»*5¥'ff^ 


374  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  I   ~ 

"What  is  that!  She  gives  us  miserable  scraps,  com- 
pared with  the  immense  sums  she  pockets." 

"Let's  rub  the  fur  the  other  way,  and  make  her  pay 
better. " 

"How  will  you  do  that?"  I 

"We  have  her  in  our  power."  .  | 

"And  she  has  us  in  hers."  j 

"But  the  poudre  de  succession — isn't  that  our  in- 
vention? " 

"Not  entirely;  we  got  it  from  the  crafty  Italian 
Exili,  the  teacher  of  La  Croix  and  the  Marquise  de 
Brinvilliers. "  » 

"Don't  mention  those  names." 

"Why?" 

"Because — for  very  excellent  reasons — I  never  like 
to  think  of  the  end  of  those  people." 

"Why  did  they  allow  themselves  to  be  caught?  I 
think  there  is  more  craft  under  our  skulls." 

"Pshaw!  I  wouldn't  give  a  straw  for  that;  the 
pitcher  goes  to  the  well  until  it  breaks.  The  only 
thing  that  soothes  me  is,  that  we  and  La  Voisin  are 
screened  by  our  distinguished  customers;  haven't  we 
among  them:  Monsieur,  the  king's  brother,  the  queen 
herself,  the  Marquis  d'Esiat,  Comtesse  Soisson,  Due 
de  Launzun,  Prince  Cardinal  de  Bouillon,  Grand 
Almoner  of  France,  Due  de  Saint  Aignan,  and  many 
other  prominent  personages.  They  will  beware  of 
compromising  such  names." 

"Possibly!   But  I  don't  rely     much    upon    it.      One 


'      ;,  -  THE  witch's  kitchen  375 

crow  doesn't  pick  out  another's  eyes.  If  the  king 
should  some  day  find  himself  compelled  to  use  vigor- 
ous measures. " 

"We  poor  devils  will  be  caught  in  the  net — that's 
true — and  the  great  rascals  will  slip  out." 

"Don't  let  us  think  of  such  foolish  things.  For  us 
it  is  written  to  enjoy  life  to  the  dregs.  If  the  devil 
then  leaves  us  in  the  lurch — why — the  jest    is    done." 

"And  I  suppose  my  broth  is  now?" 

"Yes — a  minute  more,  and  it  will  have  cooked  long 
enough." 

This  conversation  was  carried  on  by  two  priests 
d'Auvaux  and  Lesage,  who — in  connection  with  Vig- 
oureux  and  the  famous  fortune-teller  La  Voisin  — 
conducted  the  secret  manufacture  of  poisons  with  such 
success,  that  all  France  trembled. 

It  was  they  who  had  aided  La  Voisin  in  performing 
the  devil's  mass,  by  means  of  which  the  Grand 
Almoner  of  France,  the  Prince  Cardinal  de  Bouillon, 
accompanied  by  the  Due  de  Saint  Aignan,  had  tried 
to  discover  Turenne's  treasures. 

During  this  conversation,  they  were  in  the  laboratory 
where  were  prepared  the  terrible  poisons,  which  in  those 
days,  amid  the  boundless  immorality  and  corruption 
of  the  French  court,  found  such  extensive  use,  that 
even  now  it  makes  every  honest  man  shudder  to  look 
back  to  that  terrible  time. 

The  surroundings  harmonized  with  the  occupation. 
It    was   a    dark,  gloomy,  cellar-like    room,  a    vaulted 


!=lA.-.t£^_C_ 


r   - 


376  A    ROYAL    ROBKER 

apartment  in  the  lower  story  of  a  damp,  dull  house 
in  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain.  Retorts  and  distilling 
apparatus  of  every  description,  alembics  and  crucibles 
of  various  shapes,  mortars  and  other  utensils,  were 
piled  along  the  walls  and  in  the  corners.  On  a  wide 
hearth,  surmounted  by  a  massive  chimney,  a  charcoal 
fire  was  burning,  over  which  Lesage  had  been  boiling 
a  brown  liquid  for  an  hour. 

Unsavory  odors  rose  from  it,  and  strove  to  escape 
from  the  room. 

In  a  corner  behind  the  hearth  lay  a  dead  cat,  its 
stomach  horribly  swollen,  and  its  stiff  limbs  stretched 
far  apart.  It  had  been  used  to  try  the  effects  of  a 
newly  inventeci  poison. 

Rabbits  hopped  to  and  fro.  The  poor  creatures  did 
not  suspect  that  they  were  intended  for  similar  exper- 
iments. 

Exili,  St.  Croix,  the  Marquise  de  Brinvillier,  La 
Voisin  and  the  priests  d'Auvaux  and  Lesage  pos- 
sessed, in  the  low  condition  of  chemistry  and  medicine 
at  that  time,  wonderful  knowledge  and  skill  in  the 
preparation  of  poisons. 

The  reports  of  the  experts  of  those  days  cannot  ex- 
press sufficient  admiration  for  the  nature  and  prepara- 
tion of  these  deadly  potions,  which  certainly  far  sur^ 
passed  all  the  knowledge  and  experience  of  the 
pharmacology  of  that  period. 

The  Saint  Croix  poisons — they  say — defied  all 
attempts  to  apply    to    them    the    laws    of    chemistry. 


■■.V  ■,..;£ ■'.-/.J 


'"  THE  witch's   KITCHEN  \        ^77 

The  poisonous  material  was  so  concealed  that  it  could 
not  be  perceived,  and  so  subtle  that  it  evaded  all  the 
skill  of  the  physicians.  All  rules  hitherto  known 
prove  useless,  and  all  experience  unavailing.  To  be 
sure,  the  doctors  themselves,  owing  to  the  number  of 
those  in  high  position  who  were  implicated,  were  not 
disposed  to  discover  the  poison.  The  hens,  doves, 
and  dogs,  that  drank  some  of  Saint  Croix's  poisoned 
water,  died  a  short  time  after,  it  is  true,  but  on  open- 
ing them  every  part  of  their  bodies  was  found  in  a 
perfectly  natural  condition,  with  the  exception  of  some 
clotted  blood  in  the  heart. 

Saint  Croix's  powder — found  after  his  death  in  a 
little  box — when  administered  to  a  cat,  caused  con- 
stant vomiting  and  speedy  death;  but  here  also  no  one 
portion  of  its  body  was  found  to  be  affected  by  the 
venom.   ,  .      ' 

The  poisons  these  terrible  persons  prepared,  no 
longer  exist  to  be  examined  by  the  chemists  of  our 
days.  Undoubtedly  the  principal  ingredient  would  be 
found  to  be  arsenic.  But  it  is  a  terrible  sign  of  the 
want  of  morality  of  those  times,  that  their  preparation, 
concealment  and  use,  could  rise  to  the  dignity  of  an 
art.  Exili  and  Saint  Croix  are  said  to  have  really 
made  the  manufacture  of  poison  a  science.  La  Voisin's 
assistants,  d'Auvaux  and  Lesage,  followed  in  the  foot- 
steps of  these  worth}'  men. 

Both  at  this  moment  were  occupied  in  preparing  a 
new  poison.      Lesage  had  been  boiling  a  brown  liquid 


378  -  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  ,      „*;:' 

over  a  charcoal  fire  for  an  hour,  till  it  became  a  thick 
mass. 

Now — at  the  close  of  the  conversation — he  took  the 
vessel  from  the  fire  and  extinguished  the  coals. 

"There,"  said  he,  "let  it  cool."  ^ 

At  this  moment  one  of  the  rabbits  hopped  nimbly 
up  and  stopped  at  the  hearth. 

A  repulsive  smile  flitted  across  Lesage's  face. 

"So  you  introduce  yourself,"  said  he,  turning  to  the 
little  creature  with  a  touch  of  rude  humor,  "very  well, 
you  shall  have  the  honor  of    trying   this   liquor   first." 

"It  ought  to  die  in  violent  convulsions  within  fifteen 
•minutes,"  said  d'Auvaux  quietly,  "otherwise  the  potion 
will  be  too  weak  for  a  man." 

"You  forget,"  rejoined  Lesage,  "that  it  isn't  to  kill 
at  once.  Death  is  not  to  be  expected  until  after  a 
week  or  fortnight  and — take  notice — without  any  start- 
ling symptoms." 

"Exili's  receipts;  number  35!"  replied  d'Auvaux, 
nodding. 

At  that  moment  an  odd,  rattling  noise    was    heard. 

"La  Voisin!"  said  Lesage,  "that  is  her  signal." 

"Let  her  come  in!"  replied  d'Auvaux,  "I  wish  she 
was  obliged  to 'swallow  one  of  the  drinks  we  brew  for 
her,  and  which  she  sells  for  such  immense  sums. 
Then  we  could  be  independent  and  receive  the  money 
undiminished,  directly  from  the  customer's  hands.* 

La  Voisin  entered.  She  was  dressed  richly,  but  with 
the  exaggeration  of  ornament*peculiar  to  persons  who 


^■-  ■_j-i_:-":T„^;G-63£:Saa:eii 


■*^'3Er?l^»K:^-^=i^«-T-^-!::-*-^'%_      <-!!:--&  '^«^!^^fT''f^^?S^^^^>''"7,:-'?W^ 


-      -  THE  AVITCH's    kitchen  "  379 

have  risen  from  a  low  origin,  and  her  by  no  means 
plain  features  wore  a  very  crafty  expression.  Her 
color,  complexion,  and  plumpness  implied  ample  enjoy- 
ment of  material  pleasures. 

"Disagreeable  news!"  she  said,  entering  and  closing 
the  door  behind  her.  "The  king  and  court  are  about 
to  leave  Versailles."  ' 

"Well,  what  of  that,"  replied  d'Auvaux.  "They 
are  only  going  to  spend  a  short  time  at  some  pleasure 
castle." 

"If  that  were  so,  who  would  think  it  worth  men- 
tioning," replied  La  Voisin.  "But  the  king  is  going 
farther." 

Lesage  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "The  king,  or  the 
Duchesse  de  Fontanges." 

"This  time  it  is  the  king, "  Madame  Voisin  answered. 

"And  where  is  he  going?"  asked  d'Auvaux. 

"To  Rheims,  Thionville,  Metz,  Nancy,"  ■ 

"Aha!"  said  Lesage,  laughing.  "Do  you  notice  any- 
thing?" 

"What?"  inquired  d'Auvaux. 

"His  Majesty  seems  to  want  to  remain  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  Strassburg  cathedral." 

"It  may  be  so!"  replied  the  fortune-teller.  "The 
Due  de  St.  Aignan,  who  called  on  me  yesterday  to 
consult  the  cards  about  a  certain  matter  of  business, 
told  me  in  confidence  that  the  court  would  remain 
sonfl"  time  at  Colmar. " 

"At  Colmar?"  repeated  Lesage  and  d'Auvaux.     •  ^^ 


'•"1  "3»n7      .  J,  ■  ' "'    ■™■■SSji«Si?^•.»  h*^ 


380  A    ROYAL    ROBBER 

"I  don't  believe  it.  What  should  the  pleasure- 
loving  duchesse  want  in  that  old  nest?"  ^ 

"But  if  the  king  has  a  special  object."  \  ' 

"And  the  Duchesse  de  Fontanges  does  not  desire  it?" 

"Pshaw!"  observed  La  Voisin,  who  meantime  had 
seated  herself  on  an  old  chair.  "Things  no  longer 
stand  on  the  old  footing." 

"With  the  duchesse?"  asked  d'Auvaux  with  an  ex- 
pression of  the  utmost  incredulity.  ^, 

"With  the  Duchesse  de  Fontanges  !"  replied  the  lady. 

"You  are  mistaken,  madame, "  d'Auvaux  answered 
confidently.  "The  rule  of  the  Duchesse  de  Fontanges 
is  firmer  than  ever.  Don't  you  know  the  latest 
fashion?" 

"To  wear  the  hair  a  la  Fontanges!"  said  La  Voisin, 
shrugging  her  shoulders.  • 

"What  sort  of  a  story  is  that?"  asked  Lesage,  who 
meantime  had  been  holding  his  sauce-pan  of  brown 
liquid  in  a  vessel  of  water,  to  cool  it. 

"Last  week,"  replied  d'Auvaux,  "a  grand  hunting 
party  was  given,  which  was  attended  by  the  whole' 
court.  There  is  no  end  of  pleasure  excursions  and 
amusements  of  every  kind,  since  the  beautiful  marble 
statue  from  Limagne  became  the  object  of  the  king's 
devotion." 

Lesage  laughed  loudly  exclaiming:  ' 

"D'Auvaux  is  turning  moralist."  J 

"So  is  the  devil,"    replied    d'Auvaux,  "the   c^ntry, 
will  soon  be  unable  to  bear  the  expense." 


'■'ffiyiw^^lfsgss- 


■      '.  THE  witch's   fcltCHEN  381 

""What  is  that  to  us,"  observed.Lesage  scornfully, 
"we  get  our  living  from  the  court  and  distinguished 
persons,  not  the  common  people.  But  we  were  talk- 
ing of  a  new  fashion?" 

"Yes! "  cried  d'Auvaux.  "On  this  hunting  party, 
the  wind  disordered  the  duchesse's  hair  and  she 
fastened  it  as  well  as  she  could  with  a  ribbon.  As 
this  arrangement  happened  to  be  uncommonly  pretty 
and  wonderfully  becoming  to  the  duchesse,  the  follow- 
ing day  all  the  ladies  of  the  court — princesses,  duch- 
esses, marchionesses,  down  to  the  most  insignificant 
maid  of  honor — :appeared  with  a  similar  ribbon  in 
their  hair. " 

"And  this  style  of  coiffure  is  now  the  fashion?" 
asked  Lesage. 

"Yes,"  said  La  Voisin,  "and  is  being  adopted 
throughout  Europe,  under  the  name  of  the  coiffure  k 
la  Fontanges.  But  does  that  prove  anything  in  regard 
to  the  security  of  the  duchesse's  position?  Abbe 
Choisy  told  me,  when  he  visited  me  a  short  time  ago, 
that  the  Duchesse  de  Fontanges  was  beautiful  as  an 
angel,  but  silly  as  a  goose.  And  he  is  right  1  Her 
position  has  turned  her  brain.  For  some  time  she 
has  shown  an  arrogance  that  will  prove  her  ruin.  She 
passes  the  queen  without  any  salutation,  and  has 
treated  Madame  de  Montespan  with  such  hauteur  as 
to  make  the  latter  her  mortal  enemy." 

"All  this  affords  no  ground  to  anticipate  her  fall!" 
said  d'Auvaux,  "the  king  loves  her  to  madness." 


382  A   ROYAL   ROBBER 

"Loved!"  corrected  La  Voisin. 

"Only  last  week  he  ordered  a  charming  suite  of 
apartments  to  be  furnished  for  her,  the  walls  of  the 
salon  hung  with  tapestry  representing  his  victories. 
The  witty  flatterer  Saint  Aignan  instantly  wrote  some 
lines  which  greatly  delighted  the  king  and  duchesse." 

"Have  you    finished,  d'Auvaux?"  asked  La   Voisin. 

"At  your  service."  ' 

"Then  I'll  tell  you  why  I — for  mypart^ — believe  that 
the  earth  is  shaking  under  the  feet  of  the  beautiful 
Duchess  de  Fontanges. "  ' 

"I  am  all  ears  fpr — if  she  falls,  we  must  know  to 
whom  we  are  to  look  in  future.  So  madame,  your 
reasons!"  i 

"I  have  already  mentioned  that  yesterday — " 

"The  Due  de  Saint  Aignan  visited  you  to  consult 
the  cards." 

"And  what  do  you  suppose  he  wanted  to  ascertain?" 

"How  should  I  know?  ' 

"Whether  a  certain  person,  who  now  occupies  a 
very  prominent  position,  would  remain  long  at  the 
helm."  '  i 

"The  deuce!"  exclamied  d'Auvaux  with  an  expres- 
sion of  the  greatest  astonishment.  "Why  if  the  case 
stands  so,  if  Saint  Aignan  asks  Fate   that  question — " 

"It  is  evident  that  he,  who  is  so  closely  associated 
with  the  king  and  duchesse,  already  has  a  suspicion 
from  what  quarter  the  wind  is  beginning  to  blow. " 

"Well,  and  what  did  the  cards  say?"  .1 


-.5:';!KrN;S£«*,3*cs.  .i^i^iirirE??^,  ...  -  ^-^^'-«  .  i  J-r"i-^ 


^■^.~ 


.  ^     -         THE  witch's  kitchen  383 

"What  my  small  share  of  wisdom  whispered.  The 
queen  of  hearts  was  followed — after  four  other  cards — 
by  the  ace  of  clubs."  ' 

"Excellent,  excellent!"  cried  d'Auvaux,  "the  pow- 
erful favorite,  after  a  certain  time — it  may  be  four 
days,  four  weeks  or  four  months — is  to  be  supplanted." 

"Cold!"  here  remarked  Lesage. 

"Who?"  asked  d'Auvaux  in  surprise,  "the  Duchesse 
de  FontangeS?" 

"Nonsense,"  replied  Lesage,  "my  broth." 

"Then  we'll  try  it!"  replied  d'Auvaux  quietly, 
seizing  one  of  the  rabbits  by  the  ears — "here!" 

Lesage  took  it  and  poured  a  few  drops  of  the  brown 
liquid  down  its  throat. 

La  Voisin  smiled.  "May  it  do  it  much  good,"  she 
observed. 

D'Auvaux  still  held  the  poor  creature  firmly. 

The  three  gloomy  fiends  watched  it  in  silence  with 
eager  expectation  the  point  in  question  was  to 
ascertain  the  effect  of  the  poison. 

It  was  intended  for  human  beings,  and  not  to  pro- 
duce death  immediately,  therefore,  according  to 
Exili's  estimate,  it  should  kill  a  rabbit  in  twenty 
minutes. 

After  a  few  moments  the  little  creature  grew  rest- 
less, the  eyes  dilated,  and  singular  movements  of  the 
neck  began. 

Lavoisin  again  laughed  loudly.  "The  rogue  is  co- 
(juetting  like  a  school  girl  just  fledged,"  she  observed. 


.r..yiSfe^b'i'>Ws.s;„i>i3t;.L-^^  "--  ^  "■  -  ■*■■:•  .  JW^-^iirtt'-'^^^ 


384  A    ROYAL    ROBBER 

!  ■ 

"No,  it  is  swallowing,"  observed  Lesage  gayly,  "like 
a  courtier  to  whom  the  king  has  just  given  a  pill  that 
does  not  want  go  down  and  yet  must." 

"They  often  burn  the  throat  as  much  as  my  potion," 
said  Lesage,  calmly  watching  the  contortions  of  pain 
made  by  the  poor  little  animal. 

Convulsions  were  already  commencing,  burning 
pains  and  cramps  in  the  stomach. 

"It  takes  effect  too  quickly,"  said  d'Auvaux,  "the 
poison  is  too  strong.  Convulsions  ought  not  to  take 
place  in  a  rabbit,  in  less  than  ten  minutes  at  the 
earliest. " 

"They  may  at  the  end  of  five,"  replied  Lesage. 

"No!  "said  d'Anvaux.  "Exili  expressly  says  in 
regard  to  the  trial:  in  a  half-grown  rabbit,  not  before 
ten  minutes." 

"What  will  you  bet  I'm  not  right  in  saying  five?" 
cried  Lesage  eagerly. 

"Three  bottles  of  sack."  ; 

"Done!" 

Lesage  went  to  an  old  cupboard,  drew  out  a  roll  of 
dirty  papers,  opened  them,  and  following"  the  .  lines 
with  his  fingers,  read  a  few  words.  Then  he  looked 
up  triumphantly,  pointed  to  a  passage,  and  exclaimed: 

"What's  this?" 

D'Auvaux  and  La  Voisin  looked  at  the  page. 

"Five!"  cried  the  latter  gayly,  "Lesage  has  won. "- 

"Yes,  'observed  d'Auvaux,  "a  man  may  be  mistaken, 
ril  pay.  •  .     - 


l^.S'^Ji  A-Li}^-H-  i^lX/i'l/i'iif^v* 


^■_  .'"•■-:'::?  THE   witch's    KITCHEN       '  ■  ■"     385 

"And  I'll  help  drink  the  wine,"  observed  La  Voisia. 
"We'll  have  as  pleasant  an  hour  as  we  three  have  ever 
spent  together.     I  feel  ready   for  anything.     But   the 
sack  must  be  good  and  strong." 
-  'Watch!"  said  d'Auvaux,  "our  candidate    for   death 

is  vomiting." 

"Is  there  any  blood?" 
"No!" 

"It  will  come!  " 

"Hop!  hop!  that's  what  I  call  convulsions!"  ex- 
'^:  claimed  La  Voisin.  "It's  absurd  that  we  are  obliged 
?:i;  to  try  our  poisons  on  animals,  human  beings  would 
J;;,     give  unerring  symptoms.  " 

;;J  "But  we  should  be  obliged  to  wait  a  week  or  fort- 

ies   night!"    observed    Lesage,  "and   our  potion    must    be 
^^-    delivered  to-night." 

'■-!'.      "True!"  replied  La  Voisin,  "the    customer    is    in  a 
'   '    great  hurry." 

"The  customer?" 
"I  don't  know  who  he  is." 
"But  he  belongs  to  the  court?" 
J  La  Voisin  laid  her   finger    on    her    lip,  and    cast    a 

significant  glance  at  d'Auvaux. 

"I  understand!"  said  the  latter.     "Government  busi- 
ness."  .     -i 
"What  is  it  to  me?" 

"Doesn't  Monsieur  Louvois  go  away  early  to-morrow 
morning?"  asked  Lesage. 
"So  they  say." 

25'     Robbef 


386  A  ROYAL   ROBBER 

Lesage  hummed  a  song. 

The  rabbit  was  in  its  last  convulsions.  Blood 
oozed  from  the  mouth  and  nose.  Its  sufferings  ap- 
peared to  be  terrible. 

"And  the  payment?" 

"As  I  have  already  told  you,  d'Auvaux,  princely," 
replied  the  fortune-teller.  "This  man  doesn't  haggle 
over  such  things." 

"I  believe  so,"  cried  Lesage  laughing.  "It  costs  him 
nothing." 

Only  divide  honestly,"  said  d'Auvaux,  with  a 
meaning  glance  at  Lesage,  which  the  latter  answered 
by  a  look  at  La  Voisin. 

"As  usual!"  replied  La  Voisin. 

"Done!"  exclaimed  Lesage    at    the    same    moment. 

"The  rabbit  is  dead." 

He  took  up  the  little  creature  and  tossed  it  beside 
the  dead  cat. 

"The  poison  is  all  right." 

"If  it  isn't  too  strong."  ! 

"Then  a  smaller  dose  must  be  used."  ^ 

'But  I  must  know  exactly  how  many  drops  to  a 
glass  of  wine,"  said  La  Voisin — "death  is  not  to  ensue 
for  a  week  or  fortnight. " 

"Without  any  extraordinary  symptoms?" 

"Yes.      That  is  the  express  condition." 

"Man,  woman,  or  child?"  I 

"Man!"  .  '      /--'M 

"How  old?'^  ^      ' 


.  ^    ,    j.,iS-,^'t    , 


'  THE  witch's  kitchen  387 

"About  sixty." 

"Strong?" 

"Not  very!" 

"Then  five  drops  will  do  it."  -. 

"Very  well." 

"And  when  shall  we  get  our  money?" 

"You  shall  have  it  to-night,  wlien  we  drink  3^our 
three  bottle  of  sack  in  the  secret  room  in  my  house,  ' 
replied  La  Voisin,  with  a  repulsive  glance  at  her 
companions.  "I  will  provide  a  supper  of  which  Mon- 
seigneur  Louvois  himself  need  not  be  ashamed."         - 

"But  three  bottles  won't  be  enough." 

"Then  I'll  add  three  more,"  replied  La  Voisin. 

Lesage  and  d'Auvaus  laughed. 

"We  have  worked,  now  we  will  feast." 

"As  people  make  their  way  honestly  in   the  world." 

"One  thing  more  before  we  part!"  said  d'Auvaux, 
turning  to  La  Voisin,  as  Lesage  pushed. back  the  bolt. 
"Why  did  you  seem  so  disturbed  about  the  news, 
that  the  court  would  leave  Versailles  for  some  time?" 

"As  if  we  should  not  as  good  as  lie  fallow  in  con- 
sequence." 

"Then  we'll  rest  a  short  time  on    our  laurels.     Be-' 
sides  you  won't  lack  fortune-telling,  prophesies  of  the 
future,  etc." 

"Trumpery,"  replied  La  Voisin.  "But,  before  I 
forget  it:  Madame  de  Montespan  is  beguiling  the 
weary  hours  in  a  singular  way." 

"Probably  by  prayers;  that's  usually  the  end  of 
votaries  of  pleasure." 


J 


388  A    ROYAL   ROBBER 

"Possibly!    But—"  1 

"Well?"  I 

"The  lonely  woman  is  now  seeking — the  philosopher's 
stone." 

"She  ought  to  have  done  that  before  the  Duchesse 
de  Fontanges  took  the  helm," 

"Jesting  aside,  '  said  La  Voisin,  and  her  eyes  ex- 
pressed as  much  as  her  words,  "she  is  pursuing  the 
study  of  alchemy. " 

"Who  says  so!" 

"She  informed  me  by  a  confidential  servant  and  asks 
— for  some  chemicals.  "  I 

"Aha!"  exclaimed  Lesage  with  a  malicious  smile. 

"But  there  must  be  no  poisonous  substances  among 
them." 

"I  understand!"  said  Lesage,  "I'll  give  her  what  is 
necessary." 

"Then  bring  it  this  evening;  the  servant  is  coming 
for  it  to- day." 

"Tt  shall  be  done." 

The  three  left  the  room. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE   DUCHESSE   DE   FONTANGES. 

Fourteen  miles  from  Strassburg  and  ninety-six  from 
Paris  is  the  little  city  of  Colmar 

Under  the  French  monarch}-,  Colmar  ('Colnmbaria> 
was  only  a  farm  which  gradually  increased  to  a  village. 
The  Emperor  Charlemange  established  here  a  work- 
house for  women,  while  the  Emperor  Friedrich  II 
raised  it  to  the  rank  of  a  city,  which  increased  rapidly 
in  size. 

Soon  after  1282  Colmar  entered  the  ranks  of  the  free 
German  cities  and-  retained  its  position  until  in  1673, 
Louis  XIV  took  violent  possession  of  it.  demolished 
its  fortifications,  and  destro5^ed  its  freedom. 

Since  that  time  Colmar  had  ceased  to  flourish,  but 
now  a  new  star  seemed  to  have  risen  on  ancient  Col- 
umbaria, for-  the  inhabitants  themselves  scarcely 
realized  it — Louis  XIV  and  his  court  had  spent  several 
days  within  its  walls. 

The  venerable  Rathhaus  had  been  transformed  into 
a  royal  palace. 

The  modest   little  city    and    its    inhabitants     realh' 

did  not  know  what  had  happened  to    them,  but     as    it 

rained  gold,  and  ever}^  service  was  liberally  rewarded, 

389 


^*rK='-T-^.ii^lE5> 


390 


A    ROYAL    ROBBER 


they  cheerfully  submitted  Lodgings  and  provisions 
reached  fabulous  prices  and  yet  the  most  necessary 
food  could  scarcely  be  procured.  Princes  and  noble- 
men, marchionesses  and  duchesses  were  often  obliged 
— for  want  of  better  things — to  satisfy  their  hunger 
-with  milk  and  cheese.  Lodgings  and  beds  were  in- 
ferior to  those  occupied  in  Versailles  and  Paris  by 
their  lowest  servants.  But — after  the  first  painful 
surprise,  the  French  temperament  came  to  their  aid. 
With  but  few  exceptions,  all  viewed  the  matter  from 
its  comic  side. 

At  the  close  of  every  day  the  most  aristocratic  ladies 
glided  out  of  the  houses  in  the  simple  costumes  of  Col- 
mar  burgher  women  and  girls^  which  they  had  borrowed 
from  their  servants,  and  the  gentlemen  of  course  did 
the  same.  True,  they  did  not  also  put  on  the  plebeian 
virtues  of  the  worthy  citizens  of  Colmar,  and  Versailles 
and  Paris  might  perhaps  have  marveled  if  they  had 
witnessed  what  Colmar  saw  at  this  time. 

The  whole  visit  of  the  court  was  really  an  idyl  of 
rural  life  composed  of  countless  amusing  episodes. 
The  affair  was  new  and  piquant.  Even  the  king  was 
said  not  to  have  remained  entirely  aloof  from  the 
romance. 

But  Louis  XIV  and  his  ministers  Louvois  and  Col- 
bert were  not  the  men  to  undertake  a  journey  like  this 
for  a  mere  whim  or  pastoral  romance.  Beneath  the 
glittering  cloak  of  this  original  and  truly  French 
caprice,  the  great  serious  drama  of  the  time  went    on. 


:^JJ^'>-  f"rrtt;  T." : i.iji . jSk '"■ 


^v     :  ;  THE  DUCHESSE  OF   FONTANGES  391 

Never  had  the  intercourse  between  the  French  court 
and  the  neighboring  city  of  Strassburg  been  more  con- 
stant, or  at  the  same  time  so  little  likely  to  arouse 
anxiety. 

France  had  most  positively  denied  any  knowledge 
of  the  conspiracy  connected  with  the  Franciscan  mon- 
astery,^  throwing  the  whole  responsibility  on  the 
monks,  and  their  superior. 

True,  the  latter  with  his  followers  had  instantly 
crossed  the  frontier  and  sought  the  protection  of 
France,  but  the  affair  must  be  allowed  to  remain  as 
it  was  for  the  present.  An}'  farther  steps — in  opposi- 
tion to  so  powerful  a  neighbor — would  be  dangerous 
and  unwise. 

Louis  XIV  now  seemed  to  intend  to  soothe  the  ex- 
citement prevailing  in  Strassburg  as  speedily  as  pos- 
sible, for  he  and  his  ministers  were  overflowing  with 
friendly  sentiments. 

This  was  especially  the  case  when  the  court  came 
into  the  immediate  vicinity  of  Strassburg.  Assurances 
of  the  utmost  friendship  were  lavished  on  the  citizens. 
France  desired  nothing  but  the  welfare  and  prosperity 
of  the  city;  and  it  was  only  because  it  was  so  com- 
pletely left  in  the  lurch  by  emperor  and  empire  that 
Louis  XIV  desired  to  take  it  under  his  protection. 

The  French  ambassador  had  plenty  of  occupation  in 
"transmitting  these  professions  of  friendship,  orally  and 
in  writing,  to  the  magistrates  of  Strassburg.  The 
partisans  of  France,  the  timid    and    time-serving  mag- 


-*tI:sSii'.J::^"« j£S^ai«i^>riii -tpSf-'sfc!:  >^t?.„  i^^'--. 


^rgstw^"  ».  *rvc;jF=K?^^SaP  - 


392  A  ROYAT-  ROBBER         '       •  l_  ' 

istrates,  were  radiant  with  delight;  the  warnings  of 
the  other  party,  who  saw  in  these  maneuvers  only  a 
diplomatic  snare,  fell  on  empty  air.  j 

Nay,  the  government  of  Strassburg  even  resolved 
to  send  deputies  to  convey  a  greeting  to  the  king  of 
France  during  his  stay  in  Colmar. 

Syndicus  Frantz,  Giinzer  as  "le  rnignon  connu  dc 
la  France,"  and  several  other  members  of  the  magis- 
tracy were  chosen. 

Frantz  positively  declined;  but  Giinzer  exerted  all 
his  influence  to  induce  the  Syndicus  to  accept  the 
honor.  The  king  expressed  a  desire  to  see  Syndicus 
Frantz  at  the  head  of  the  embassy. 

Under  these  circumstances,  a  refusal  from  the  Syn- 
dicus would  have  been  a  violation  of  diplomatic 
custom,  nay — an  act  of  cowardice.  Frantz  therefore 
consented,  though  with  a  heavy  heart.  The  bravs 
man  opposed  a  quiet  resolution  to  the  fears  of  his  wifa 
and  child,  the  warnings  of  Hugo,  but  in  the  silence 
of  the  night  set  his  house  in  order,  made  every  need- 
ful preparation  In  case  he  did  not  return — or  died. 

Thus  the  day  arrived  which  His  Majesty  had 
graciously  appointed  to  receive  the  ambassadors  sent 
from  Strassburg  to  greet  him. 

The  embassy  was  a  pompous  one,  and — like  all 
such  city  affairs — arranged  in  the  style  of  the  Middk 
Ages. 

The  ambassadors  traveled  in  five  clumsy  state- 
coaches,  i 


~-  ;   .      .  THE    DUCHESSE   OF   FONTANGES  393 

In  the  first  sat  two  heralds,  attired  in  the  colors  of 
the  city,  with  the  armorial  bearings  of  Strassburg  on 
their  breasts  and  backs,  and  white  wands  in  their 
hands. 

The  four  following  coaches  contained  the  magis- 
trates: Dominique  Dietrich,  Johann  Leonliard  Fror- 
elsen,  Johann  Storr,  Giinzer,  and  Syndicus  Frantz. 

Frantz  drove    alone    with    Hugo    von    Zedlitz,  v/ho 

would    not  be  denied  the    privilege    of    accompanying 

-    the  worthy  man,   the  father  of    his    beloved    Alma,  as 

r:    his    private    secretary.      Hugo    clearly  perceived    the 

%^    Syndicus'  dangerous  situation. 

It  was  still  early — that  is,  early    for    people    whose 
:-    real  life  begins  at  night,  and  who  measure    the    morn- 
£:     ing  according  to  the  position  of  the  noon-da}-  sun — when 
^1^   Saint  Aignan  called  on  the  Duchesse  de  Fontanges. 

-  Only  the  king  had  the  right  to  enter  her   apartment 
unannounced  at  this  hour. 

The  duchesse  was   in   a    bewitching   morning-dress. 

"■     A  robe  of  white  India    muslin,  so    light   and    delicate 

•    that  it  floated  around  the  beautiful  figure  like  an  airy 

cloud,  revealing  the  luster  of    the    white    satin    dress 

beneath,  but  partially  concealed  her    matchless    sym- 

j-    metry  of  form. 

Laces  of  priceless  value  encircled  her  throat,  wrists, 
and    bust,  fastened    coquettishly    here    and    there    by 

-  clasps  of  pearls 

The  complexion  of  this    singular    woman    was    like 
'--     white    marble,  alabaster,  while    the    magnificent    red 


'  ^s^^^x^^v^*^"^^  ^  "      "  "   1  ■        ■^■■'?*3 


■;  -r' 


394  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  |  "' 

i  ■  v, 

hair    surrounded     her     as    if     with     a    halo    of    gold. 

Angeline  de  Fonta^iges  was  beautiful  as  a  queen; 
but  proud  as  one,  and  this  pride,  blended  with  her 
peculiar  cold  manner  and  want  of  sprightliness,  gave 
her  of  late — since  it  .constantly  increased — a  somewhat 
harsh,   imperious,   repellant  air. 

This  was  felt  by  no  one  more  keenly  than  Saint 
Aignan.  It  was  he,  who — aided  by  Madame  de  Mont- 
espan — had  brought  the  insignificant  little  Angeline  to 
the  court  of  France  and  paved  the  way  for  her  to 
reach  her  present  power.  It  was  he,  who  had  at  first 
stood  by  her  side  to  counsel  and  protect  her,  she  had 
given  him  her  entire  confidence,  been  guided  by  him, 
served  him  and  his  wishes  against  the  king,  nay  even,  ^ 
in  some  bright  hours,  bestowed  upon  him  the  gift  of 
her  heart.  True,  this  was  not  wholly  discontinued, 
but  Angeline's  inate  vanity,  fostered  by  the  royal 
luxury  that  surrounded  her,  so  increased  her  pride 
and  love  of  authority  that  she  strove  to  rule  Saint 
Aignan  like  all  the  rest. 

But  Saint  Aignan  had  brooight  her  to  the  court,  in 
order,  through  her,  to  rule  the  king.  He  did  so  still, 
externally  wearing  the  chains  of  the  lovely  Duchesse 
de  Fontanges  with  the  patience  of  a  crafty  courtier, 
but  irritated  by  the  pride  and  imperiousness  of  a 
creature  whom  he  had  raised  and  to  whom  he  was 
greatly  superior  in  intellect,  a  certain  coldness  had  : 
come  between  them. 

Although  passion  may  blaze  fiercely  in  the  breast  of    i 
a  libertine,  it  is  of  no  long  duration. 


THE  DUCHESSE  OF  FONTANGES  395 

Saint  Aignan's  keen  eye  had  for  some  time  per- 
ceived something  else,  something  that  always  produces 
an  effect  upon  every  courtier;  he  fancied  that  the  king 
shared  his  feelings.  - 

The  duchesse  undoubtedly  now  stood  at  the  height 
of  her  power;  the  luxury  with  which  Louis  XIV  sur- 
rounded her  was  truly  royal— the  king  still  loved  her, 
but— since  the  night  when  he  had  found  Gauthier  in 
her  presence  and  arrested  him,  a  worm  had  gnawed 
the  flower  of  his  love. 

Louis  XIV  doubtless  saw  with  pleasure  that  the 
object  of  his  love  looked  down  with  royal  pride  on  all 
the  world  save  himself;  nay  he  even  secretly  rejoiced 
in  the  humiliations  she  inflicted  upon  the  queen,  but 
in  the  depths  of  his  heart — so  contradictory  men  often 
are — did  not  forgive  Angeline  these  insults  to  majesty. 

No  symptoms  of  all  this  escaped  Saint  Aignan's 
keen,  watchful  eyes.  He  knew  his  lord  and  king 
thoroughly,  knew  his  great  and  feeble  traits  of  char- 
acter, his  truly  royal  generosity  where  he  loved,  and 
his  destructive  fury  when  rage  took  possession  of  him, 
but  above  all  else  he  knew — his  inconstancy  in  love. 
It  was  not  intellect  but  mere  phj^sical  beauty,  tha 
novelty  and  peculiarity  of  her  loveliness,  that  charmed 
the  king  in  Angeline. 

But  Saint  Aignan  knew  how  feeble  was  such  a  bond 
to  a  Louis  XIV.  He  saw  how,  like  a  good  general, 
the  king,  in  the  midst  of  his  love,  was  storing  in  his 
heart  an  arsenal    of    defensive    weapons,  ia  order  at  a 


39^  A    ROYAL    ROBBER       , 

fitting  moment,  tiiat  is  when  satiety  overtook  him, 
to  be  duly  prepared  for  a  back  stroke.  I         v 

Thus  Saint  Aignan  now  had  a  double  task,  and  this 
was  to  sustain  and  uphold  Angeline's  influence  over 
the  king — behind  which  he  himself  stood — as  long  as 
possible;  but  on  the  other  hand,  carefully  watch  the 
barometer  of  royal  favor  towards  the  Duchesse  de 
Fontanges,  in  order  as  soon  as  it  perceptibly  fell,  to 
withdraw  from  the  person  who  was  sure  to  be  speedily 
out  of  favor. 

The  sun  of  the  royal  favor  was  still  shining  upon 
Angeiine  with  all  its  power  and  brilliancy,  keeping 
the  little  clouds  of  single  instances  of  disapproval  far 
below  the  horizon.  And  indeed  the  charming  object 
of  the  king's  love  made  the  utmost  use  of  this  favor. 
One  brilliant  entertainment,  one  pleasure  followed  an- 
other wtih  dizzy,   intoxicating  haste.  i 

True,  there  were  many  thoughts  in  Angeline's  mind 
that  needed  stiiiing;  the  pangs  of  conscience,  the 
memory  of  a  mother  who  had  gone  to  her  grave  in 
grief  and  shame  at  her  daughter's  fall,  and  above  all 
things,   the  recollection  of  Gauthier.  i 

Did  she  even  know  whether  he  was  alive  or  dead? 
If  the  repose  of  the  grave  did  not  yet  surround  the 
victim,  then — oh!  the  thought  was  terrible — he  was 
buried  alive  in  the  Bastille.  Buried  alive  on  account 
of  his  love  for  her — for  her,  who,  in  reward  for  her 
treachery  to  him,  was  revelling  in  royal  luxury,  wealth, 
pov.ei"  and  sph-ndor.  : 


*-.-^kii'?';%**?'^.t'i?..''i'^i'vJkc-£ii;ftii-T;^.rt 


_.  -  _        ■  THE  DUCHK^iSF-  OF  TOXTAXGES  397 

V 

This  was  the  cause  of  the  perpetual  entertainments, 
the  whirl  of  pleasure  and  amusement  which  devoured 
millions  and  3^et — could  not  deaden  her  conscience. 

Saint  Aignan  had  just  entered  the  apartments  of  the 
Duchesse  de  Fontanges. 

Angeline  in  her  white,  airy,  neglig^  attire  looked 
like  a  fairy  rising  from  a  lily. 

The  nobleman  greeted  her  with  this  complim.ent, 
and  taking  her  little  hand,  pressed  a  light  kiss  upon  it. 

The  duchesse — accustomed  to  such  homage — re- 
ceived both  with  a  proud  smile.  She  already  con- 
sidered herself  the  real  queen  of  France.  But  this 
imprudent  pride  and  arrogance  were  the  first  symptoms 
that  made  Saint  Aignan  fear  her  fall.  He  knew  what 
the  real  queen  thought  of  them,  and  that — deeply 
insulted — she  with  her  whole  party,  the  party  of  the 
highest  nobilit}^  were  laboring  to  prejudice  Angeline 
de  Fontanges  in  the  eyes  of  the  king. 

He  did  not  fail  to  give  the  duchesse  many  hints  of 
this,  but  they  were  rarely  understood.  Usually,  ac- 
cording to  his  habit,  they   were   veiled    by    anecdotes. 

To-day  he  pursued  the  same  course.  In  order  to 
make  the  duchesse  think  of  her  own  position,  he 
turned  the  conversation  with  consummate  skill  to  the 
beautiful,  gentle,  and  imfortunate  la  Valliere,  one  of 
the  first  of  her  predecessors.  The  new  coiffure  a  la 
Fontanges  served  to  introduce  the  subject. 

They  had  spoken  of  her  and  several  whimsical  fash- 
ions, when  Saint  Aignan  suddenly  exclaimed; 


-  .::5*S:S2^ir:<!^"£-i 


3<j8  A    ROYAL    ROBBER 

"But  I'll  wager,  fair  duchesse,  that  you  don't  yet 
know  the  oddest  of  all  feminine  fashions." 

"And  this  is?  —  "  asked  Angelina.  • 

"When  the  Marquise  de  Montespan  was  about  to 
become  a  mother,  she  invented  a  new  costume,  dressed 
herself  precise] \'  like  a  man,  with  the  exception  of  a 
petticoat,  over  the  belt  of  which  the  shirt  was  puffed 
in  such  a  manner  as  to  conceal  her  figure." 

"Pshaw!"  cried  the  duchesse,  "that  couldn't  have 
been  a  pretty  style." 

"And  yet  it  was  instantly  adopted  by  all  the  ladies 
of  the  court.  Strangely  enough,  from  that  moment  all 
the  courtiers  deserted  the  poor  Duchesse  de  la  Val- 
Jiere. 

"Why?" 

"Because,  "said  Saint  Aignan,  with  apparent  care- 
lessness, but  in  a  very  peculiar  tone,  "because  the 
favor  bestowed  upon  Madame  de  Montespan  foretold 
La  Valliere's  fall.  All  went  over  to  the  side  of  the 
marquise,  and  this  was  solely  because  poor  La  Val- 
liere,  striving  solely  to  please  the  king,  never  thought' 
of  making  friends." 

"Was  it  not  enough  that  the  king  was  her  friend," 
cried  the  Duchesse  de  Fontanges  proudly,  raising  her 
beautiful  head  as  if  a  heavy  crown  rested  upon  it. 

"That  did  not  seem  to  be  the  opinion  of  the 
Marechal  de  Grammont. " 

"How  so?"  asked  Angeline  with  a  little  pout. 

"Why?"     replied    Saint    Aignan    gayly,     "when  the 


^'^Sif^^'^sln^isy 


.-^Z'    ■       -^^      THE  PUCKESSE   OF   FONTANGES  399 

'Duchesse  de  la  ValHere  complained  to  him  of  her 
sudden  fall,  he  answered:  'Deuce  take  it,  my  friend, 
while  you  had  reason  to  laugh,  you  ought  to  have 
made  others  laugh,  too;  then  when  you  now  have 
cause  to  weep,  others  would  at  least  help  you.'" 
;  The  Duchesse  de  Fontanges  smiled  scornfully  and 
then,  gazing  at  her  image  in  the  mirror,  said,  that 
-"La  Valiere  was  a  foolish  child.  People  should  under- 
stand how  to  bind  His  Majesty  with  stronger  chains, 
and  forever." 

The  Due  de  Saint  Aignan,  who  stood  before  Angeline 
• — the  latter  was  reclining  in  a  costly  arm-chair — hold- 
ing his  plumed  hat  in  his  hand,  smiled  craftily,  as  he 
bowed  and  answered: 

"A  task  that  cannot  be  difficult  for  a  lady  so  beauti- 
ful and  intellectual  as  Madame  la  Duchesse." 

"A  stool!"  said  Angeline. 

A  page  placed  one  about  four  feet  from  the  duch- 
esse's  chair  and — Saint  Aignan  bowed  and  accepted  it. 
.  The  conversation  now  turned  upon  the  approaching 
event  of  the  day:  the  audience  given  the  embassy 
from  Strassburg;  but  Angeline  did  not  care  for 
politics,  she  wanted  amusem.ent,  even  now,  besides 
she  was  mortally  tired  of  Colmar. 

"Help  tne  pass  away  the  time!   St.  Aignan,"  she  ex- 
claimed with  a  yawn,  "tell  me    one  of  your    thousand 
finecdotes.   You  can  be  entertaining  when  you  choose." 
■  The  due  bit  his  lips  but  bowed  and  smiled. 

Hours  passed  in  lively  conversation  with  Saint  Aig- 


400 


A   ROYAL    ROBBER'- 


nan,  who  as  usual  was  full    of    witticisms    and  anec- 
dotes. ,. 
Far  more  serious  was  the    manner    in    which  these 
hours  were  spent  by  others. 


•"*i 


C-v-;  ?:'!n<5i5*r'Si-' 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


AN    AUDIENCE. 


The  great  audience  took  place  in  the  hall  of  the 
ancient  Rathh&us,  whose  walls  had  been  hung  with 
costly  tapestry  and  furnished  as  handsomely  as  the 
short  time  and  long  distance  from  Paris  would  permit. 
Everywhere  glittered  the  royal  arms  of  France,  only 
from  the  center  of  the  ceiling — as  if  in  mockery — 
looked  down  the  escutcheon  of  Austria,  carved  in  wood. 

Louis  XIV  had  appeared  with  his  whole  court, 
since  he  desired  to  awe  the  ambassadors  from  Strass- 
burg  by  every  means  in  his  power.  All  shone  in 
velvet  and  silk,  glittered  with  gold,  silver  and  jewels, 
and  all  this  splendor  was  surpassed  by  the  galaxy  of 
beautiful  women,  who  never  failed  to  surround  the 
most  gallant  sovereign  of  the  age. 

Louis  XIV  had  taken  his  seat  upon  a  lofty    throne. 
Around  him  stood  the  princes  of  the  blood,  as  well  as 
his  ministers  Louvois  and  Colbert. 

These,  however,  were  only  stars  of  the  first  magni- 
tude; they  were  surrounded  by  the  other  nobles  of 
France  and  dignitaries  of  the  kingdom,  nor  were 
authors    and    artists    in     every     department    lacking. 

Louis  Xiy  liked  to  have  his  surroundings  harmonize 

26  -  m\ 


'■     'T 


402  A    ROYAL   ROBBER 

■■■'  ./  ■  ■     *  ■ 

with  the  epithet  of  "great,"  bestowed  upon  him  by  his 
century. 

And  now,  preceded  by  the  two  heralds,  appears  be- 
fore this  brilliant  assembly,  the  simple  citizens  of 
Strassburg:  Ammeister  Dominique  Dietrich,  Syndi- 
cus  Frantz,  Giinzer  and  the  magistrates  Froreisen  and 
Hecker. 

Their  plain,  black  costume  formed  a  striking  con- 
trast to  the  ladies  and  gentleman  of  the  court,  glitter- 
ing in  garments  of  every  hue,  adorned  with  the  most 
superb  embroidery  of  gold  and  silver  and  ornaments  of 
flashing  jewels— but  no  less  marked  was  the  difference 
in  their  demeanor. 

None  of  these  hearts  felt  any  emotion  of  fear,  yet 
iull  these  men  were  pale,  except  Giinzer,  who,  familiar 
with  the  court  and  its  life,  remained  unawed  by  the 
imposing  aspect  Louis  XIV  and  his  brilliant  train, 
could  not  fail  to  present  to  the  others. 

Yet  the  innate  dignity  of  Ammeister  Dietrich  and 
5yndicus  Frantz  was  clearly  apparent;  they  advanced 
with  calm,  grave,  measured  steps  and,  after  bowing 
low  before  the  king,  held  their  heads  steadily  and 
proudly  erect  as  beseems  a  free  man — even  when  he 
stands  in  the  presence  of  kings  and  emperors. 

But  Louis  XIV  was  unusually  gracious  to-day. 

He  listened  with  a  smile  to  the  salutation  addressed 
to  him  by  Gunzer,  in  the  name  of  the  magistrates  of 
Strassburg.  The  crafty  speaker  knew  how  to  utter 
them  in  such  a  way  that  they  appeared  to  express  far 
greater  devotion  than  had  been  intended. 


^  A  _i'  ^'i^'^^iW' . 


AN  AUDIENCE  403 

The  same  gracious  reception  was  bestowed  upon  the 
costly  gift,  which  Ammeister  Dietrich,  in  the  name  of 
the  city,  as  a  token  of  respect  and  neighborly  kindness 
laid  at  the  feet  of  the  king  of  France. 

Louis  XIV  uttered  the  most  friendly  thanks,  and 
never — according  to  his  assurances — had  the  throne  of 
France  been  occupied  by  a  monarch  who  bore  such 
good  will  to  Strassburg  as  himself. 

The  king's  words  flowed  like  honey  and  evidently 
produced  a  marked  effect  upon  all  the  ambassadors — ■ 
except  Syndicus  Frantz.  While  the  heads  of  the  others 
were  bowed  lower  and  lower  in  gratitude  and  reverence, 
he  alone  remained  erect  with  a  cold,  grave  expression 
upon  his  features. 

-  This  could  not  escape  the  eagle  eye  of  Louis  XIV 
— besides,  he  was  also  fully  aware  of  the  Syndicus' 
views.  He  therefore  suddenly  paused  and  then  said 
in  his  slow,   impressive  manner: 

"And  you  do  not  agree  with  our  views,  Syndicus 
Frantz?" 

"No,  your  Majesty"  replied  Syndicus  Frantz, 
quietly  but  firmly. 

"And  why  not?"  asked  the  king,  with  a  look  that 
would  have  made  any  one  else  tremble.  "We  do  not 
wish  to  force  the  good  city  of  Strassburg  to  anything, 
although  according  to  natural  boundaries  and  the 
claims  of  the  Reunions- Kammern,  it  belongs  to  France. 
According  to  our  opinion,  however,  the  worthy  citizens 
of  Strassburg  ought  to  be  wise  enough  to  place  them- 


■- ';-  ;?;,^*3»gt^--<' '  V. -^■-  />V--rTi?-^^  .'-iy^-i^-;'-  ■v'^^S-*^,-*  "■?^*r^7?'S^ig^ 

404         '  A    ROYAL    ROBBER    '■;       ' 

selves  under  the  protecting  wings   of   our    power.     Is 
not  this  your  view,  Syndicus?"  , 

"No,  your  Majesty!"  replied  Frantz  again. 

A  death-like  stillness  prevaded  the  hall. 

Giinzer,  Dietrich,  and  the  others  stood  in  terror. 

"Then  express  your  opinion,"  said  the  king,  after  a 
short  pause,  "and  do  so  frankly,  we  desire  and  expect 
perfect  sincerity." 

Frantz  stood  with  his  figure  drawn  up  to  its  full 
height,  but  a  death-like  pallor  overspread  his  face, 
the  great  moment,  as  he  had  anticipated  had  come. 

Syndicus  Frantz  now  began: 

"Your  Majesty!  "  he  cried — and  his  voice  sounded 
so  full  and  sonorous  that  all  present  started.  "Your 
Majesty,  Strassburg,  the  ancient,  free,  German  city, 
has  sent  us  here  to  offer  a  friendly  and  reverent  greet- 
ing to  her  distinguished  neighbor,  the  King  of  France, 
Louis  XIV,   whom  the  world  calls  great. 

"Surely  no  mortal  man  will  deny  the  greatness  of 
Louis  XIV  when  he  looks  at  France  and  beholds  the 
progress  this  great  and  beautiful  country  has  made 
under  3'our  Majesty's  government.  France  rules  sea 
and  land,  prospers  by  commerce  and  manufactures, 
surpasses  all  the  other  kingdoms  of  Europe  by  the 
luster  Louis  XIV  has  fostered,  in  the  realms  of  poetry 
and  art. 

"Corneille  and  Racine  divide  the  scepter  of  tragedy 
boasting  of  being  the  representatives  of  modern  ele- 
gance,    the  successors  of  the    Greeks.     Molierfe   pro- 


;v,.*i-;  .r£::^E*^'i.:'^>:i:i!&r=*&i' 


;,;    y  r-        -      ^  AN    AUDIENCE  '     405 

duces  his  masterpieces.     La  Fontaine  writes  his  fables, 

Bossuet  his  history,  Fenelon  his  Tel^maque.      Boileau 

will  cease  to  write  when  Louis   XIV    ceases    to    live, 

t?;:      since  he  will  then  have  no    campaign    in    Holland,  no 

^j-    passage  of  the  Rhine  to  record. 

";•  :       "And    not    onl}^    by    poesy,   the    arts,  and    sciences, 
p^'    but  also  by    a   Avise    fostering    of    manufactures    30ur 
|v      Majesty  has  understood  how  to  make  France   superior 
l^'    to  all   the   countries  that    surround  her.      Not    a    year 
-"    passes  unmarked    by    the    creation    of    new    factories. 
Forty-four  thousand  looms  are  in  motion  in  the   king- 
^;      -dom,  French  cloth  and  silk,    carpets,    and    hangings, 
f'       laces  and  mirrors  surpass  those  of  all  the  world. 
;. -,         "And — what   shall  I  say  of  your    Majesty's    armies > 
?;  .     Here  my  lips  are  silent  where   the    names    of    Cond^, 
Turenne,  Luxemburg,  Catinat  and  Baudone  speak,  and 
---     — history  asserts  her  prerogative. 

"Your  Majesty,  I  willing  and  loudly  proclaim  that 
0}^-  the   man   who   would   not   call  Louis  XIV    the  great, 

V  would  call  down  disgrace  upon  himself. 

r  "Therefore  Strassburg  sends    us,  and    this    homage 

J-      we  cheerfully  lay  at  your  Majesty's  feet. 
p'    ••     "But,  Sire,  permit  us,  citizens  of  Strassburg,  to  also 
;- -   have  the  pleasure  of  calling  Louis  XIV  the  just. 

"Strassburg  is  an  ancient,  free,  German  city.  She 
^  -  honors  the  king  of  France  as  her  distinguished  and 
>.;  powerful  neighbor;  but  in  this  very  power  she  places 
'^'      her  trust — that  it  will  not  be  abused." 

V  Louis  XIV  sat  motionless,  not  a  muscle  of  his  face 
moved. 


.  -;i.'4t^V'^:^;'4.iiia^-^-avii-^;:^3;i;iiJ,^";:t 


;  :f^^'  -"^g^r-^'^ST^SJ'!;^  ;?^;:  -f: 


406  A    KOYAL   ROBBER 

"Strassburg,"  continued  Syndicus  Frantz,  "Strass- 
burg  is  German  and  wishes  to  remain  German.  Strass- 
burg is  a  free  city,  and  desires  and  will  guard  her  free- 
dom, and — we  are  sure  of  this:  that  Louis  XIV,  who 
is  called  'the  great,'  will  show  this  greatness,  the 
nobility  of  his  nature,  by  protecting  Strassburg's  free- 
dom and  independence,  and  honoring  the  loyalty  with 
v/hich  she  clings  to  the  German  empire. 

"But  if  your  Majesty  asks:  why  does  the  German 
empire  leave  Strassburg  so  isolated,  I  have  a  reply, 
which  it  is  true  also  contains  a  heavy  accusation 
against  German  princes.  The  aristocracy  of  the  em- 
pire are  thus  careless  of  Strassburg's  interests,  because 
the  point  in  question  concerns  only  a  free  city,  and 
not  a  princely  house. 

"But  it  is  not  princely  to  uphold  themselves  and 
their  power  by  the  oppression  of  the  middle  classes, 
by  the  destruction  of  the  freedom  of  individual  cities, 
by  the  arbitrary  abolition  of  their  well-earned  rights! 
It  is  not  princely,  I  say,  and  in  direct  opposition  to 
real  greatness.  This  is  the  conviction  of  the  citizens 
of  Strassburg  and  this,  sire,  is  surely  your  Majesty's 
opinion.  A  great  heart  can  only  have  noble  feelings, 
as  a  lofty  soul  can  only  act  in  a  generous,  high-minded 
manner." 

Louvois*  face  here  grew  crimson  with  anger.  Louis 
XIV  still  sat  motionless,  only  from  time  to  time  his 
eyes  darted  furious  glances  at  the  bold  speaker.     - 

Syndicus  Frantz  noticed  neither;    carried    away    by 


^ " '..V-Ui^- i  i:.' 'A^i'5.— 


AN    AUDIENCE  407 

his  subject,  he  continued  to  delineate  with  bold  strokes 
the  perfidious  policy  of  the  time,  without,  however, 
directly  mentioning  the  King  of  France.  Then,  sud- 
denly turning  to  the  latter,  he  cried: 

"To  pursue  such  a  policy  is  not  worthy  of  Louis 
XIV!  He  knows  that  the  people  hate  the  conflicts- 
of  ambition  and  selfishness,  that  history — that  eternal 
tribunal  of  the  world — condemns  them.  Your  Majest3''s  . 
keen  eyes  will  see  through  the  veil  of  mist  that  dims 
the  sight  of  so  many  men,  will  penetrate  it  and  per- 
ceive that  the  consequences  of  this  wretched  policy  of 
ambition  and  selfishness  may  easily  form  illusions;  that 
they  may  lead  to  complications  and  wars,  which  must 
drench  the  world  with  blood  and  ruin,  and  might  be 
capable  of  shattering  all  existing  relations. 

"The  German  is  peaceful — the  German  values  nothing 
more  than  an  honorable  and  lasting  peace.  His  heart 
is  large  and  full  of  love  for  mankind.  Therefore  he 
hates  neither  France  nor  the  French  nation.  Does 
not  envy  it  what  it  is  and  has.  But  the  German  heart 
also  throbs  for  its  most  sacred  possessions:  its  honor 
and  native  land.  If  the  attack  on  these  should  exhaust 
his  patience,  evil  consequences  might  ensue  and  even 
to  the  powerful.  It  will  and  must  be  so,  when  the 
policy  of  the  strong  is  that  of  ambition  and  selfishness. 

"But  no,  no,  I  repeat  it,  Louis  XIV  cannot  pursue 
such  a  policy,  his  heart  is  too  generous,  his  soul  too 
noble;  he,  whom  history  adorns  with  the  name  of  "the 
great"  will,  cannot  fail  to,  act  nobly. 


'-'■~~'^irrY^-^-!i-:^rg^-^!i>K.^^  -^  ^^ 


c 


408  '  A    ROYAL    ROBBER-  -      |- .  ,. " 

"And  it  will  be  noble  to  honor  in  the  ancient  free 
German  city — that  desires  to  remain  German — nation- 
ality, freedom  and  independence  I 

"In  this  sense,  sire,  the  citizens  of  Strassburg  greet 
Louis  XIV  as  their  distinguished  neighbor  and  rely 
upon  his  justice  and  the  protection  of  their  rights." 

Syndicus  Frantz  paused.  A  death-like  stillness  pre- 
vailed. Giinzer  and  his  companions  stood  pale,  rigid 
motionless. 

The  king  did  not  move;  but  those  nearest  heard  the 
grinding  of  his  teeth,  the  deep,,  heavy  breathing  which, 
forcibly  repressed,  with  difficulty  escaped  his  lips, 

All  eyes  were  fixed  upon  him.  But  Louis  XIV  had 
already  regained  his  composure.  Life  on  and  by  a 
throne  is  one  scene  of  dissimulation  from  the  cradle 
to  the  grave. 

Gently — nay,  even  with  a  smile— he  bent  his  head, 
then  said  slowly,  putting  a  jnarked  emphasis  upon 
each  syllable: 

"We  love  sincerity  and  respect  the  opinion  of  ever}' 
individual.  Let  the  ambassadors  from  Strassburg 
present  to  their  city  our  greeting  and  the  assurances  of 
our  favor.  The  fate  of  Strassburg  lies  very  near  our 
lieart.      We  will  not  lose  sight  of  it." 

With  these  words,  the  king  rose,  making  a  sign  to 
Louvois. 

The  marquis  instant!)  approached,  followed  by 
five  pages,  each  of  whom  bore  a  gold  chain  on  a  velvet 
cushion. 


,  ^!i!f^^!!^''!fr^^g^<'ir^'^-VS^^l^i:^f^ii^Jspv^!^Ji!Si>t''  - 


AN    AUDIENCE  409 

With  flattering  words  the  minister  stated  that  His 
Majesty  desired  to  honor  the  ambassadors,  and  in 
them  the  good  city  of  Strassburg,  by  presenting  each 
with  a  gold  chain. 

Then, at  Louvois' signal, Giinzer,  Dietrich, and  the  two 
others  advanced,  receiving  with  low  bows  the  gift  Mon- 
seigneur  Louvois  presented  under  the  eyes  of  the  king. 

But  when  Louvois  requested  Syndicus  Frantz  to 
come  nearer,  the  latter  quietly,  but  firmly,  refused  the 
gift,  saying  with  a  smile,  that  chains  were  chains 
whether  forged  of  gold  or  iron.  A  free  man  ought  to 
wear  none  save  those  of  the  love  that  bound  him  to 
his  native  land. 

A  death-like  pallor  glided  over  the  countenance  of 
the  king,  but  Louvois  said  with  a  scornful  laugh: 

"Consistency  is  a  virtue!  Your  Majesty  surely  will 
not  dismiss  this  worthy  republican  without  any  token 
of  your  favor;  so  as  he  has  such  a  horror  of  chains, 
which  ought  never  to  bind  him  in  life,  your  Majesty 
will  perhaps  allow  me  to  offer  him  the  cup  of  honor." 

"Yes!"  said  the  king,  in  a  curt,  cold  tone,  yet  there 
was  a  slight  tremor  in  his  voice  as  he  uttered  the 
short  word. 

Louvois  motioned  towards  the  corner  of  the  hall; 
two  pages  approached,  one  bearing  a  gold  cup,  the 
other  a  gold  flagon,  on  salvers  of  the  same  metal. 

Louvois  filled  the  cup. 

Frantz  could  not  refuse  the  wine  without  offering 
the  king  a  direct  insult. 


>    410  A    ROYAL   ROBBER  "  \ 

Bowing  to  the  monarch,  he  raised  the  cup  to  his 
lips. 

But  at  the  same  instant  the  Syndicus  perceived  the 
Bishop  of  Strassburg  standing  behind  Louvois.  I 

The  sight  pierced  him    like    a    dagger.     He    merely 
-    sipped  the  wine  and  after  swallowing  a  single  mouth- 
ful returned  it  to  Louvois. 

T     The  king  left    the    hall.     The    audience    was    over. 
Courtiers  and  ambassadors  withdrew. 

At  the  door  of  the  Rathhaus  stood  Hugo  von  Zed- 
litz,  waiting  anxiously  for  the  Syndicus. 

He  started  at  the  pallor  of  the  worthy  man,  who 
had  become  his  second  father. 

"It  is  nothing,"  said  Frantz,  "I  am  only  a  little  ex- 
cited.     Let  us  get  on  to  our  lodgings." 

But  on  the  way  the  Syndicus  grew  still  paler. 

"What  is  the  matter,  father?"  Hugo  again  asked 
anxiously. 

"It  will  pass  away,"  said  Frantz,  "the  excitement 
has  made  me  ill,  I  feel  some  pain  and  am  very 
thirsty. "  , 

They  reached  the  lodgings  of  the  Strassburg  ambas- 
sadors, and  the  Syndicus  asked  for  some  meat  and 
bread  and  a  mug  of  wine. 

But,  good   Heavens,  where    under    present    circum- 
stances were  wine  and  meat    to    be    procured    in     the 
^     little  city  of  Colmar  for  anyone  not  belonging    to    the 
;    highest  rank  of  nobility? 

Even    for    gold,    Hugo    von    Zedlitz    could    obtain 


-     ,  -  AN    AUDIENCE  ^H 

nothing  except  a  mug  of  milk  which  was  very  greasj. 
-Necessity  has    no    law,  Syndicus    Frantz    was    tor- 
tured by  a  terrible  thirst.      He  drained  the  milk  with 
long,  eager  draughts. 


:\  , 


M^-""'"  -r         ■''---..  ^'    ■f:#f?''?^S-^ 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

i 

DARKNESS  AND   SORROW.  I 

Deep  stillness  pervaded  Syndicus  Frantz's  sleeping 
room.  Although  broad  day,  the  window  curtains  were 
drawn,  so  that  a  gloomy  darkness  filled  the  spacious 
apartment,  while  the  low,  monotonous  ticking  of  the 
clock  increased  the  uncomfortable  air  of  mystery. 
The  bed-curtains  were  also  so  nearly  closed  that  only  a 
narrow  space  afforded  a  glimpse  of  the  person  sleep- 
ing within,  and  this  was  Syndicus  Frantz  himself. 
•  Frantz  had  returned  from  the  audience  at  Colmar 
seriously  ill.  ' 

It  was  no  acute  disease    that    attacked    him,  but    a 
strange  languor  confined  him  to  his  bed. 

Medical  science  in  those  days  was  at  a  very  low 
ebb,  and  as  the  Syndicus' s  family  physician  was  a 
plain,  good-natured  man,  but  by  no  means  a  remarka-* 
bly  skillful  doctor,  the  cause  of  the  sickness  remained 
a  mystery.  The  first  symptoms  were  burning  pains 
and  cramps  in  the  stomach,  followed  by  vomiting, 
thirst,  and  severe  suffering,  but  gradually  these  symp- 
toms passed  away  and  then  came  remarkable  weakness 
and  desire  to  sleep,  both  of   which   had   so   increased 

during  the  week  since  his   return,  that   the   physician 

4ia  ! 


.t,-MBj> .  ^  ^^.  .w.i»..r:,^.  A.  .9>'^<te'^  .-^.-^avi^ifl  „' 


\        '  DARKNESS    AND    SORROW  413 

was  wholly  at  a  loss,  while  Hedwig,  Alma  and  Hugo, 
and  a  large  number  of  the  citizens,  were  in  the  great- 
est anxiety. 

This  was  the  case  with  Wenck;  but  some  other 
thought  also  oppressed  him.  Wenck  seemed  com- 
pletely transformed,  som.ething  evidently  weighed 
heavily  on  his  mind;  he  was  more  silent  than  ever, 
and  instead  of  his  favorite:  "Who  knows  what  good  it 
may  do!"  only  shook  his  head  gloomily. 
-  Some  dark,  terrible  thought — that  was  evident — 
must  be  haunting  him,  but  he  did  not  express  it  to 
anyone,  even  Hugo  von  Zedlitz. 

Frantz  still  lay  wholly  destitute  of  strength,  in  a 
sort  of  lethargy.  The  physician  talked  of  appoplexy 
and  gave  little  hope.  Hedwig,  Alma  and  Hugo  were 
frantic  with  grief. 

The  sad  news  of  the  Syndicus'  critical  condition 
soon  spread  through  the  city,  where  it  excited  the 
more  interest,  as  at  the  same  time  news  arousing  still 
greater  terror  reached  the  citizens,  news  that  instantly 
showed  what  Strassburg  had  already  lost  by  Frantz's 
absence  from  the  meetings  of  the  magistrates.  The 
Giinzer  faction,  which  now  that  the  patriots  had  lost 
their  leader,  won  their  game,  had  passed  and  were 
about  to  carry  into  immediate  execution,  a  resolution 
that  filled  the  whole  city  with  terror  and  confusion. 

Louis  XIV,  before  leaving  Colmar  with  his  court, 
desired  to  again  express  through  Louvois  to  the  mag- 
istracy of  Strassburg  his  friendly  feelings  and  the   as- 


?^di^:^*^ff^«^'ij^'::V-i*Uw2:;^;:.i^'^'ra 


.-.^y  '  ?vt»- .  —  --'•^'  srv.-iF'j!-*?  -^^.it^ffifirlJir 


414  A    ROYAL    ROBBER 

surances  of  his  royal  favor,  but  requested  in  return 
equal  courtesy  from  the  magistrates  of  Strassburg. 
But  the  token  of  this  courtesy  was  to  be  given  by 
the  destruction  and  removal  of  the  tete  de  pont  facing 
towards  Kehl.  France  would  allow  only  a  small  in- 
trenchment  there,  for  that  was  all  the  treaty  of  Nym- 
wegen  granted  the  city.  i 

But  what  did  this  mean  except  relinquishing  of 
onfe  of  the  most  important  bulwarks  of  Strassburg,  and 
to  expose  the  city  to  a  hostile  attack  from  this  direc- 
tion? '  i  ,  a 

Never  would  this  proposal  have  been  accepted  if 
Syndicus  Frantz  could  have  taken  his  seat  in  the 
council  of  magistrates.  But  none  knew  better  than 
Louvois  that  Frantz  was  lying  at  death's  door  and 
Giinzer  had  entire  control  of  the  government.  - 

The  moment  was  admirably  chosen.  1 

The  gentlemen  to  whom  Louis  XIV  had  given  the 
gold  chains  were  enthusiastic  in  their  admiration  of 
the  "great  king,"  his  friendly  intentions,  magnanimity 
and  good  wishes,  things  that  ought  not  to  be  repelled; 
while  Giinzer  won  others,  the  timid,  by  conjuring  the 
magistrates  for  Heaven's  sake  to  avoid  everything  that 
could  arouse  the  distrust  of  the  French  government. 
The  king  and  Louvois  now  seemed  so  well  disposed 
towards  Strassburg,  that  they  must  not  be  repulsed 
on  any  account. 

Wenck  foamed  with  rage,  the  guilds  hurried  to  their 
assembly  rooms,    fiery    speeches    were  made,  deputies 


I 


!?*■ 


DARKNESS    AND    SORROW  415 

hastily  chosen  and  sent  to  the  government ;  Hugo  von 
Zedlitz  endeavored  to  rouse  the  higher  class  of  citi- 
zens and  all  the  patriots  to  an  immediate  protest — in 
vain.  In  the  higher  circles,  timidity  or  corruption 
frustrated  any  step  of  this  nature,  and  besides  all  was 
too  late;  for  while  the  people  were  meeting,  making 
speeches,  writing  and  getting  signatures  to  the  in- 
tended protest,  the  best  and  strongest  bulwark  of 
Strassburg  had  already  fallen.  • 

Hugo  brought  the  terrible  news  to  Alma  and  Hed- 
wig,  who  sitting  beside  the  unconscious  Syndicus, 
gazed  with  redoubled  despair  at  the  beloved  husband 
and  father,  now  hovering  on  the  verge    of    the    grave. 

This  was  not  the  only  grief  Alma  endured;  besides 
her  sorrow  for  her  sick  father,  the  terror,  anxiety  and 
doubt  with  which  she  regarded  her  native  city  and  her 
own  future,  she  was  also  saddened  by  the  terrible 
blow  which  now  fell  upon  her  widowed  friend,  Frau 
von  Bernhold. 

After  the  day  on  which  Giinzer  had  had  the  presump- 
tion to  sue  in  such  an  unseemly  manner  for  the  hand 
of  his  aristocratic  benefactress,  the  widow  who  still 
wept  for  her  scarcely  buried  husband,  he  had  not  ap- 
peared again  at  Plobsheim. 

Although  this  state  of  affairs  was  very   agreeable  to 
Frau  von  Bernhold,  the  threatening   words,    "you   will 
repent  it  some  day!"  still  rang  in  her  ears,  and  made 
her  the  more  anxious  because  she  herself   knew   noth 
ing  about  the  family  papers,  while   Giinzer,  to    whom 


416  "  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  '  1- 

this  business  had  been  entrusted  for  years,  was  thor- 
oughly familiar  with  them.  , 
.  Frau  von  Bernhold  was  more  anxious  about  her 
children's  future  than  her  own  fate.  Yet  she  per- 
suaded herself  that  it  was  impossible  for  Giinzer — who 
owed  everything  he  was  and  had  to  her  family — could 
abuse  the  confidence  reposed  in  him.  She  ascribed 
his  indelicate  proposal  for  her  hand  to  his  well-known 
avarice.  When  he  had  grown  calm,  he  would  surely 
regret  his  conduct. 

"Evil"— she  had  said  to  Alma — "is  not  in  man  but 
on  him.  It  always  seems  to  me  like  the  soiled  garment 
of  his  originally  pure  soul.  He  can  lay  it  aside  if  he 
seriously  desires  to  do  so  and  then  the  white  robe  of 
virtue  and  honest}^  is  always  at  hand.  Every  discord 
in  and  among  men  will  finally  vanish  in  the  harmo- 
nious chorus  of  the  universe." 

But  Alma  was  no  longer    with    her;    the    Syndicus' 
illness  had  called  her  home,  and   in   loneliness  all  our 
cares  grhw  heavier, 

What  did  it  avail  that  the  beautiful  estate  of  Plobs- 
lieim  extended  before  her  in  all  its  summer  loveli- 
ness? Her  oppressed  and  troubled  heart  had  no 
appreciation  of  the  beauties  of  nature,  to  which  the 
little  lady  was  usually  so  keenly  sensitive.  It  seemed 
as  if  a  black  veil  rested  upon  everything;  her  garden, 
the  castle,  nay  the  world  and  mankind. 

Only  one  thing  afforded  her   comfort   and    support: 
religion.     As  a  flower  beaten  by  a  thunder  storm  seeks 


'j.5«Ci^"*;.  >  _^~-v-.-*'.:      •   .--.-I.  -a*.    ---i.^TT-.  ■fe^'.-r'-    '.i;;-;. .  .■:i*n;-:^-5r^!£i'^f;^l5e'JiK.:. 


'    ■  DARKNESS    AND    SORROW  417 

to  raise  itself  under  the  warm  rays  of  the  sun,  the 
sorrowful  widow  looked  up  to  God,  relying  upon  Hi'm, 
trusting  Him,  placing  her  fate  in  His  hands. 

So  she  sat  this  morning  at  one  of  the  windows  of 
the  castle,  gazing — after  solacing  herself  with  a  heart- 
felt prayer — thoughtfully  over  the  rich  landscape. 
She  had  resolved,  since  Giinzer  no  longer  came  to  her, 
to  entrust  the  Plobsheim  business  to  another  attorney 
and  for  that  purpose  intended  to  go  to  Strassburg  the 
following  morning,  in  order  with  the  newly  chosen 
legal  adviser,  to  herself  carefully  search  the  famil}' 
documents  in  her  city  house  once  more  for  the  im- 
portant title-deeds  and  then,  still  in  her  own  person, 
apply  to  the  Reunions- Kammern,  if  necessary,  to  the 
king  himself. 

She  could  gladly  have  set  out  that  very  day,  but— 
what  is  this,  what  is  moving  along  the  road  to  Castle 
Plobsheim? 

The  whirling  cloud  of  dust  almost  conceals  the  road. 

Frau  Bernhold  gazes  more  intently. 

They  are  horsemen. 

But  what  are  they  doing  here? 

The  widow  rises  to  see  the  approaching  figures  more 
clearly. 

They  are  certainly  horsemen  and — and  French  troops 
into  the  bargain-      Twenty  or  thirty  men. 

Strange! 

What  do  French  joldiers  want  here  in  time  of 
peace? 

27     Robber 


^y'-JV-^p^Kfn^:',  -». 


7--5";  a!5^»5j^^S;fV 


418  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  '  - 

This  is  no  road  to  a  French  garrison. 

But  what  is  this?  Are  not  two  men  in  civilian's 
dress  riding  at  the  head  of  the  troops? 

The  terrible  clouds  of  dust  conceal  everything. 

A  pause  ensues. 

Yes,  there  are  two  civilians. 

Suddenly  the  widow  totters  and  turns  deadly  pale, 
she  had  received  a  mortal  blow. 

Trembling  in  every  limb  and  pressing  the  child  she 
holds  in  her  arms  to  her  heart,  she  passed  her  hand 
across  her  eyes  to  see  more  distinctly. 

Merciful  God!  No!  It  cannot  be,  and  yet — the  two 
men  in  civilian's  dress  are  Giinzer  and  his  brother-in- 
law,  Kampffer 

What  do  they  want  here  at  Plobsheim  accompanied 
by  French  troops?  Now  the  men  turn  into  the  avenue 
leading  to  the  castle,  the  horses'  hoofs  ring  on  the 
pavement  of  the  courtyard.  Giinzer  and  Kampffer  dis- 
mount and  the  troopers  halt  behind  them. 

But  what  does  Giinzer  mean?  He  goes  to  the  bell 
to  summon  the  servants. 

"What  does  this  mean?  Who  has  the  right  to  com- 
mand here?"  exclaims  Frau  von  Bernhold. 

SJie  wants  to  go  down  — but  her  limbs  refuse  their 
service.     She  stands  as  if  spell-bound. 

Hark,  how  loudly  and  imperiously  the    bell   sounds. 

The  servants  hurry  to  the  courtyard,  flock  from  the 
castle,  the  grounds,  the  stable  and  stand  motionless 
with  astonishment. 


IV  Jui^^v  !Siii<S:tfiiJ^ii 


-^^;^^^i^^tf^^^f)^P^^^J!^g!S-:!^f-'y^-:^gft^';-:p~-^-: 


DARKNESS    AND    SORROW  41  (J 

Five     and    twenty    mounted    French    soldiers    wiih 
drawn  swords!  .  , 

And  here  too    was    Herr    Giinzer    from    Strassburg, 
looking  sternly,  gravely  and  haughtily-  around  him. 
.  Hush!    he  is  going  to  speak! 

And  Giinzer  draws  from  his  pocket  a  parchment  pro- 
vided with  huge  seals  and  read  aloud  ia  a  solemn  tone: 

"In  the  name  of  his  glorious  Majesty,  Louis  XIV, 
King  of  France,  and  the  Reunions- Kaminerii,  be  it 
hereby  announced  that,  after  having  received  proof 
that  the  investiture  of  the  families  of  von  Bernhold 
and  von  Zorn  with  the  Seignurie  of  Plobsheim  is  ex-, 
tinct,  the  said  estate  has  now  passed  into  the  pos- 
session of  the  Seigneurs  Giinzer  and  Kiimpffer,  S3'ndi- 
cuses  of  the  Lower  Alsatian  nobilty,  by  virtue  of  the 
document  given  us  and  signed  by  His  Majesty.  AH 
members  of  the  families  of  von  Bernhold  and  von 
Zorn  are  therefore  commanded  to  instantly  leave  the 
castle  and  estate  of  Plobsheim,  and  all  individuals 
belonging  to  their  service  to  take  the  oath  of  allegi- 
ance to  the  above  mentioned  Seigneurs,  Giinzer  and 
Kampffer,  as  the  owners  of  the  estate." 

At  these  words  a  piercing  shriek  rang  from  one  of 
the  windows  of  the  castle,  accompanied  by  the  cries 
and  sobs  of  children. 

Frau  von  Bernhold  had  fallen  senseless  on  the  floor. 

But  the  French  dragoons  in  the  court-yard  rode  for- 
ward several  steps  their  shining  swords  flashing 
brightly  in  the  sunlight. 


-^Z-s«.?fWip;;^5^-jj^'5,-S5^^|^^!^5'^»^g»^  , 


420  •  A    ROYAL    RORBER  .    ' 

Seigneur  Giinzer  received  from  the  trembling  ser- 
vants the  oath  of  allegiance  to  himself  and  his  brother- 
in-law  as  the  owners  of  Plobsheim.  '< 

Giinzer  had  actually  laid  before  the  Rhinions-Kam- 
tner  forged  documents,  according  to  which  the  time 
for  which  the  families  of  von  Bernhold  and  von  Zorn 
were  entitled  to  possess  Plobsheim  had  expired.  At 
the  recommendation  of  Louvois,  he  and  his  brother- 
in-law  therefore  received  it  without  ceremony,  and  the 
transfer  was  instantly  recorded  by  the  proper  magis- 
trate. -  i 
,  As  the  sun  was  setting,  a~  pale  woman — holding  a 
little  child  in  her  arms  and  with  two  others  beside 
her — walked  down  the  avenue  leading  from  the  castle 
to  the  highway.  \ 

It   was  Frau  von  Bernhold  and  her  children.      | 

Giinzer,  unheeding  her  entreaties,  tears,  and  sorrow, 
had  pitilessly  turned  her  out  of  the  castle  of  her  an- 
cestors. 


■■^'*r- 7*-?^C^ -- 


PART  VI. 

THE  FALL  OF  STRASSBURG. 


CHAPTER  I. 


THE   SECRET   OF   THE    BRIDGE, 


■*-. 


Francois  Michel  le  Tellier,  Marquis  de  Louvois, 
had  just  entered  his  private  room. 

It  was  an  unusually  large  apartment,  furnished  with 
royal  luxury,  yet  the  impression  produced  was  a  gloomy 
one. 

Hangings  of  stamped  leather,  with  bouquets  of  gilt 
flowers,  covered  the  walls.  Ancient  pictures  in  ex- 
quisitely carved,  black  frames,  beautiful  Venetian  mir- 
rors, and  marble  tables  resting  on  gilded  goats'  hoofs 
appeared  in  every  direction.  ,  The  huge  arm-chairs 
that  stood  around  were  of  such  beautiful  and  artistic 
workmanship,  that  the  heart  of  an  antiquary  of  our 
days  would  have  throbbed  high  with  pleasure  at  the 
sight. 

Over  the  doors  were  superb  bas-reliefs  by  Bacon  the 

younger.      But  the  principal  ornaments  were  cups  and 

flagons  of    wrought    gold  and    silver,  and    magnificent 

weapons  arranged  in   artistic    groups   upon    the  walls. 

421 


•^jp*"?^  -s;?'- ^^^^'^v^^w^^^fg^^ 


422  A    ROYAL   ROBBER  1  -^ 

The  latter  decoration  was  the  one  on  which  the  min- 
ister of  war  specially  prided  himself,  since  some  of 
these  weapons  reminded  him  of  the  campaigns  of  Flan- 
ders and  Frauche  Comt^,  as  well  as  many  other  vic- 
tories. 

Grave,  gloomy  magnificence  and  strength  charac- 
terized the  spacious  apartment  and  the  impression 
was  greatl}' heightened  by  the  silence  that  pervaded  it, 
although  twenty  noblemen  were  in  the  room. 

All  stood  in  silence,  holding  their  gold-laced  hats 
in  their  hands.  ; 

And  besides  these,  admitted  to  the  sanctuary,  three 
hundred  other  nobles  were  waiting  in  the  minister's 
ante-room. 

At  the  head  of  the  line,  which  seemed  to  be  formed 
of  statues,  was,  in  accordance  with  the  spirit  of  the 
times,  a  representative  of  the  church.  He  was  a  tall, 
pale,  emaciated  monk,  who  might  have  served  admir- 
ably as  a  model  for  a  pious  murderer.  Surely  such  a 
thin  figure,  5'ellowish  complexion,  hair-cloth  robe, 
long,  bony  figure  and  crafty  look,  gave  him  a  wonder- 
ful resemblance  to  one  of  the  huge  spiders  that  weave 
their- almost  invisible  nets  in  dark  places,  and  crouch- 
ing in  a  corner,  greedil}''  watch  for  their  prey. 

His  features  expressed  the  mindless,  soulless  nature 
that  stifles  all  fresh  life  In  the  Catholic  church.  He 
was  an  image  of  the  pious  Inaction  that  always  leads 
to  wickedness,  and  so  willingly  puts  rascality  In  the 
place  of  industrious  life  and  labor.  \      -,    - 


-c^ 


THE    ^FC'RFT    OF    VUV    FiRIDOE  423 

When  Father  Medardus,  Louvois'  confessor,  passed 
women^  even  the  ladies  of  the  court,  he  never  seemed 
to  look  at  them.  And  yet  he  did,  but  as  the  faces  of 
those  who  were  to  be  condemned  on  the  Last  Da}^, 
and  like  a  fiend  entrusted  with  the  delightful  commis- 
sion of  persecuting  and  torturing  them  with  all  the 
torments  of  hell  throughout  eternity. 

This  diabolical  thought  afforded  him  such  delight, 
that  he  used  every  effort  to  make  a  beginning  on  earth  ; 
and  the  Huguenots  offered  the  best  opportunity  for  this 
purpose.  The  morning  and  evening  prayer  of  the 
worthy  priest  to  his  penitent,  the  marquis,  was  there 
fore  for  a  renewal  of  the  old  persecutions  of  the 
heretics.  In  this  Father  Medardus  walked  hand  in 
hand  with  La  Chaise,  the  king's  confessor.  They  were 
already  paving  the  way  for  the  sad  and  terrible  per 
secution  of  all  who  were  not  Catholics,  which  after- 
wards, under  the  bigoted  Madame  de  Maintenon,  was 
to  become  an  eternal  brand  of  disgrace  upon  the  reign 
of  Louis  XIV. 

Quite  different  was  the  appearance  of  the  3'oung 
man,  who  stood  beside  the  priest.  He  was  a  hand- 
some nobleman,  Monsieur  de  Chamille,  the  bearer  of 
an  ancient  name.  His  features  expressed  intellect, 
courage,  and  eager  ambition.  Pride,  as  well  as 
youthful  freshness  and  gayety,  was  enthroned  upon 
them. 

The  younger  man  relied  not  a  little  upon  himself, 
but  as  he  had  a  clear  head  and  was  ambitious,  he  earlv 


'f':riKi£AiCf;&£S»l,i^. ..  :i^a&iB»i;V'iiiJji^i&iiii.--::/-l;;t,r^tv5ia^'&aiSii;^ 


424  A    ROYAT     ROBBER  ,     ^ 

perceived  that  even  the  finest  painting  does  not  arouse 
enthusiasm  unless  placed  in  a  good  light. 

His  next  neighbor — the  manager  of  the  royal  theater 
— knew  nothing  of  all  this.  It  was  the  Comte  de 
Rhuli&res,  a  short,  stout,  well  preserved  man,  the  em- 
bodiment of  quiet  comfort,  which  nestles  with  calm 
satisfaction  in  the  position  it  has  won.  He  was  not 
at  all  wearied  by  the  minister's  delay;  he  was  think- 
ing with  a  smile  of  Donna  Antonia  Tordesillas,  the 
charming,  new  Spanish  ballet  dancer  whom  he  had 
engaged,  and  the  Blanquetle  aux  champignons  and 
Mayonnaise  de  poisson  that  would  await  him  to-day 
at  dinner. 

The  grave,  aristocratic  man  beside  him  was  really 
vexed  by  the  quiet  enjoyment  of  the  fat,  little  man- 
ager, whom  he — as  Councillor  of  Reunions- Kammern  of 
Alsace — thoroughly  despised  General  procurator  For- 
tounais  therefore  closed  his  eyes  and  allowed  the  im- 
portant matters  which  he  was  to  report  to  the  minister 
to  pass  in  review  before  his  mind.  ' 

A  strange  medley  prevailed  throughout  the  remainder 
of  the  party:  officers,  officials  in  the  war  department, 
secretaries  from  the  different  divisions  of  this  depart- 
ment with  piles  of  papers,  councilors  of  the  crown 
and  courtiers. 

And  now  he  entered — the  man  of  his  time — the 
dreaded  Minister  of  War  of  Louis  XIV,  Fran5ois 
Michel  le  Tellier,  Marquis  de  Louvois. 

All  bowed  low,  as  If  before  the  king.  j         •  ^^ 


-■~*"^,  C^  *  '1--^.- 


u  JS,M^Ts^jiea^A,JiLMi.,^i2maB^a£k. 


THE    .SLCkKT    OF   'J"HK    BRIDGE  425 

Louvois  advanced  with  his  figure  .drawn  up  to  its 
full  height.  The  head  covered  by  the  plumed  hat 
scarcely  bowed. 

A  deep  stillness  pervaded  the  room. 

The  minister  took  his  seat;  the  by-standers  raised 
their  backs  a  little,  but  all  remained  in  a  somewhat 
stooping  posture. 

Louvois'  eyes  glided  over  the  group  with  a  cold, 
arrogant,  scornful  glance.  His  proud  heart  enjoj^ed 
the  slavish  humility  shown  him. 

But  even  the  powerful  of  the  earth  have  to  show 
some  consideration — opposite  to  the  minister  stood 
a  representative  of  the  church,  his  confessor. 

The  throne  and  the  church  are  onh'  strong  and  un- 
conquerable when  they  walk  hand  in  hand. 

Father     Medardus— Louvois      secretly     hated     and 
despised    him — stood    it  is  true  with  his  head    bowed 
lowest,  his  hypocritical  face    expressed    humility,   sub- 
mission, and  piety,  but-  he  was   a    Jesuit.      The  mar- 
quis knew  him  thoroughly.      His    power  was  the  power 
of   the   church,  invisible,  ruling    over    the   minds    and 
souls  of  men,  but  therefore  all  the  more  dangerous;  it 
«t. extended  to  Rome,  and  what  was  impossible  to  Rome? 
-        The  pope  had  already  seen  emperors    and    kings    at 
his  feet— what  would  ministers    be    to    him  if  he  were 
angered,    even    though    they    appeared    all-powerful? 
V        And  did  not  Louvois  need  the  church    in    order    to 
rule?     It    would    be    an  easy  matter  for  it  to    oppose 
any  of  his  acts. 


4- 


26  A    ROYAL    ROBBER 


"Reverend  Father!"  said  the  minister,  In  a  gentler 
tone  than  he  was  in  the  habit  of  using  to  his  inferiors, 
"what  business  brings  3'ou  here?  The  ear  of  your 
penitent  is  ever  open  to  holy  Mother  Church." 

"May  jour  Excellency  be  blessed  in  your  going  out 
and  your  coming  in,"  replied  the  priest,  with  clasped 
hands,  making  a  low  bow.  "Monseignor  Louvois  is 
the  powerful  prop  of  the  church  and  the  throne! 
France  prospers  more  than  ever  under  the  scepter  of 
His  Most  Christian  Majesty  Louis  XIV  and  the  strong 
hand  of  your  Excellency." 

"The  fame  and  greatness  of  His  Majesty's  govern- 
ment and  the  welfare  of  the  church  are  my  sole  aim!" 
replied  the  minister.  "If  I  can  do  any  thing  for 
either,  speak,  Reverend  Father!" 

The  Jesuit  knew  Louvois'  peculiarities;  the  minis- 
ter was  no  friend  to  circumlocution,  as  statesman  and 
courtier  he  had  no  time  to  lose. 

"I  have  two  petitions  to  lay  at  monseigneur's  feet." 

"And  they  are" 

"May  it  please  His  Majesty's  government  to  at  least 
restrain  the  ever-increasing  luxury  of  the  nation  by  a 
law?" 

"Is  it  so  great?"  asked  Louvois  gloomily,  for  both  he 
and  the  king  loved  it  and  knew  why  they  fostered  it 
in  nobilit}'  and  people;  to  the  people  it  was  a  play- 
thing that  served  to  soothe  them,  to  the  nobility  a 
drain,  Vvdiich  kept  them  weak  and  submissive. 

"Yes!  "  replied  Father  Medardus,  in  a   mild,  gentle 


-^.-^ ..- ^fev''^■:• 


THE   SECRET  OF  THE   BRIDGE  427 

tone,  with  a  second  bow, "it  is  leading  the    Christians 
of  France  to  destruction." 

"It  seems  to  me  that  it  is  a  consequence  of  tlie 
universal  prosperity." 

"That  is  the  worm,  which  is  already  gnawing  the 
delicate  flower." 

"It  is  considered,  with  reason,  a  token  of  increased 
culture.  It  should  not  be  carried  to  excess,  but  it  is 
the  garb  every  nation  assumes  in  escaping  from  bar- 
barism;— as  such,  I  would  not  like  to  oppose  it.  No 
one  can  hold  aloof  from  custom;  it  is  a  sort  of  univer- 
sal language  without  which  we  are  not  understood. 
Thus,  Holy  Father,  His  Majesty  looks  at  the  matter, 
and  thus  do  I  regard  it." 

"It  was  different  in  former  days,  customs  were  more 
simple  and — the  people  more  pious.  Even  in  the  six- 
teenth century  it  often  happened  that  a  princess  gave 
a  prince  shirts  made  by  her  own  hands," 

"Oh!  yes!"  cried  Louvois,  "and  the  middle  classes 
were  in  the  habit  of  sleeping  naked.  I  think  we  ought 
to  be  glad  that  we  have  escaped  from  this  state  of 
barbarism.  Besides  it  was  the  church  that  first  intro- 
duced luxury — by  music,  sculpture,  incense,  gay  robes, 
and  costly  vessels  for  the  altar." 

"For  the  honor  of  God!"  exclaimed  the  Jesuit 
unctuously.  "The  Church  strove  to  introduce  art  and 
with  it  the  sense  of  beauty.      But  this  is    not    luxury." 

"What  is  luxury?"  cried  Louvois,  angered  by  this 
new  interference  on  the  part   of   the    priest    witli    the 


'd-'^  -:^s^iS&v'>t  A,,^.:^::^:  fj^^-oi^ 


<''C'7^-;^ji^:j:^:C%'c^'''.!££jp  -■'-     ■  '"^~^ -'Ojii-i-^s-^y:;--/ ^'~:-^- 


V"'>-tv:- 


428  ..  A    ROVAL    ROBBER 

affairs  of  government.  "Each  individual  and  class, 
each  nation  and  period,  declare  everything  a  luxury 
with  which  they  think  they  can  dispense.  You,  Father 
Medardus,  are  certainly  so  holy  a  man  that  you 
despise  all  earthly  things.  But — all  men  cannot  be 
saints.  We  still  have  some  reports  of  Charlemagne's 
possessions;  one  account  of  the  linen  mentions  only 
two  sheets,  a  handkerchief,  and  a  table-cloth.  In 
Homer's  time,  kings  ate  only  meat,  bread  and  wine. 
Shall  the  household  of  His  Majesty,  Louis  XIV,  be 
arranged  accordingly?"  1  •. 

"Your  Excellency  likes  to  jest!''  murmured  the 
Jesuit  humbly,  while  the  upper  part  of  his  body  as- 
sumed an  almost  horizontal  position,  "the  church  does 
not  desire  to  touch  the  annointed  head  of  majesty, 
although  in  truth  the  court  ought  to  set  a  good  ex- 
ample;  but  where  the  people — " 

"The  court?  What  is  done  by  the  court  is  required 
to  keep  up  His  Majesty's  state.  The  famous  Earl  of 
Warwick  daily  entertained  thirty  thousand  persons. 
Ambassadors  under  James  I,  of  England  were  at- 
tended by  a  suite  of*  five  hundred  followers,  among 
whom  were  three  hundred  nobles.  The  Duke  of  Me- 
dina-Coeli  spends  four  hundred  and  ninety  thousand 
reals  a  year  in  wages,  to  his  servants.  But  enough — 
and  among  the  people?  Why,  luxury  here  is  a  proof 
of  increasing  industry  and  prosperity.  My  holy  father 
— woe  betide  the  monarchy  In  which  too  great  sim- 
plicity, and  thereby  a  comparative    equality  of  dress, 


■*i  in^^-  ."^..i^^-  ,^Jlrf;;Si^^Ji.«:S;"S*.'W*_y 


~^'^.~'^-^^^W-^-^-    "  ■■-  -rJ-^^^T^-""-;-^  ;5^<**'*^-"-' 


■■■vr'^' 


THE  SFCRET  OF  THE  BRIDGE    \       429 


\ 


louses,  mode  of  life  and  manners,  gains  ground.  I  do 
not  like  such  equality.  Where  this  takes  place — we 
are  on  a  fair  way  to  equality  of  thought,  comparisons, 
blossoms,  whose  poisonous  fruit  might  be  universal 
equality,  that  is:    the  fall  of  the  throne." 

"Holy  Virgin!"  groaned  the  priest,  crossing  himself, 
"the  church  does  not  seek  to  touch  such  things.  The 
keen  eyes  of  a  statesman  like  monseigneur — " 

"Holy  Father,  your  second  petition,"  interrupted 
Louvois.  "Time  is  scantly  measured  to  a  statesman 
who  stands  at  the  head  of  a    monarchy    like    France." 

"Monseigneur, "  whispered  the  Jesuit,  looking  signifi- 
cantly at  the  minister. 

Louvois  understood  him. 

"Come  nearer!"  said  he,  and  a  wave  of-  the  hand 
sufficed  to  make  the  rest  of  the  group  retire. 

Father  Medardus,  with  crafty  look  and  hypocritical 
air,  drew  nearer. 

The  man  was  cunning  as  a  fox.  He  had  not  pre- 
sented the  first  petition  to  the  minister  with  any  hope 
of  seeing  it  granted;  on  the  contrary  he  knew  before- 
hand that  Louvois  would  never  consent.  But  this  was 
precisely  what  he  desired.  If  the  minister  refused  the 
first  request  of  the  representative  of  the  Catholic 
church,  he  could  not,  would  not  dare  to  hastily  and 
positively  reject  the  second  and — only  en  the  second 
was  Father   Medardus'  heart  fixed. 

"Well  Holy  Father!  "  said  '^^ouvois;  but  it  was 
with  difficulty  that    he    could    repress    his    contempt. 


'.  ■^■^<*g:?atijr-'iia;L,"^S^'>:-^-^"j-''-'^'^'^  ::r-:^:'-:-^it!U 


430  A    ROYAL    ROBBER      - 

He  knew  his  man,  who — like  a  pike,  had  all  his  relig- 
ion and  passion;  cup,  sponge,  cross,  lance,  nails  and 
crown  of  thorns  in  his  head,  and  his  booty  in  his 
stomach. 

The  Jesuit  uttered  his  request.  Louvois  had  already 
gu-essed  what  would  come:  it  was  a  renewed  demand 
that  His  Majesty's  government  should  at  last  take 
some  decided  step  against  the  heretics,  the  Huguenots. 

"And  in  what  way,  Holy  Father,  do  you  think  this 
iHiould  be  done?'  asked  the  minister  craftily.  "The 
king  swore  to  observe  the  Edict  of  Nantes  when  he 
ascended  the  throne." 

The  priest's  sunken  eyes  now  began  to  glitter  with 
a  baleful  light,  as  drawing  up  his  tall,  thin  figure,  he 
replied  :  "From  the  point  of  view  of  the  divine  right 
of'^ings,  it  is  shown  that  every  law,  every  gift,  every 
promise  may  be  revoked  at  will  and  conscience  im- 
poses it  upon  rulers  as  a  dut}':  to  force  all  heretics 
into  the  arms  of  Holy  Mother  Church." 

Louvois  listened  quietly;  he  was  no  enemy  to  such 
thoughts,  out  of  secret  hatred  to  Colbert,  his  colleague 
in  the  ministry,  who,  although  himself  a  Catholic, 
was  always  a  defender  of  the  edict  of  Nantes  and  the 
Huguenots — of  course  only  so  far  as  the  maintenance 
of  the  compact  and  protection  against  unjust  persecu- 
tion were  concerned. 

But  Father  Medardus — growing  more  and  more 
animated  and  passionate — exhausted  himself  in  expla- 
nations of  his  subject.  He  was  rich  in  proposals  of 
methods  to  intimidate  the  Protestants. 


^-      :         .,  THE   slfeCRET    OF   THf/bRIDGE  43I 

"Oh!"  he  exclaimed,  and  his  thin,  sallow  face 
gradually  became  suffused  with  a  crimson  flush,  which 
made  his  long  features  resemble  those  of  a  painted 
corpse — "oh!  there  is  nothing  easier  than  to  recall 
these  heretics  to  Mother  Church.  Let  the  Huguenots 
be  forbidden  to  buy  or  sell  meat  on  Catholic  fast  davs, 
to  bury  their  dead  by  daylight.  Let  them  be  excluded 
from  guilds  and  trades,  removed  from  all  public 
offices,  forbidden  to  rent  property  belonging  to  the 
charch,  deprived  of  all  the  patronage  hitherto  exer- 
•  cised.  Physicians,  apothecaries  and  nurses  must  be 
Catholics — children  born  of  marriages  contracted  be- 
tween a  Catholic  and  a  Protestant  must  be  considered 
illegitimate,  and  all  bastards  given  to  the  Catholic 
church.  Let  their  courts  of  law  be  abolished;  the 
Protestant  churches—  under  pretense  of  dilapidation 
or  some  other  excuse — be  gradually  torn  down.  Do 
not  allow  these  accursed  heretics,  the  Pluguenots,  to 
emigrate,  declare  any  sale  made  w^ithin  a  year  before 
a  removal  null  and  void,  prohibit  them  from  atttend- 
ihg  any  religious  service  outside  of  -  their  own  dwell- 
ings, or  to  teach  Greek,  Hebrew,  philosophy  or  the- 
ology; declare  that,  since  children  seven  years  old  are 
in  possession  of  their  reason  and  capable  of  making  a 
choice  in  matters  pertaining  to  their  souls,  Huguenot 
children  of  that  age  have  the  right  to  decide  whether 
they  will  remain  with  their  Protestant  parents  or  not. 
In  the  latter  case,  let  them  be  reared  as  Catholics,  in 
case  of,  stubbornness  let  tbom  be  soundly  flogged — " 


432  _  A   ROYAL   ROBBER  :  ;\  i^j*'  "'" 

• 

Here  Father  Medardus  paused  a  moment;  he  had 
worked  himself  into  such  a  state  of  excitement  that 
his  breath  failed.  His  eyes  were  starting  from  their 
sockets,  his  sallow  cheeks  burned,  and  a  white  frotli 
appeared  in  the  corners  of  his  mouth,  while  his  long, 
bony  fingers  twitched  convulsively,  as  if  eager  to  seize 
and  torture  the  victims  of  his  fanaticism. 

Even  Louvois — a  man  with  a  heart  of  stone  and 
iron— trembled;  it  seemed  to  him  a  trifle  to  overthrow 
long  established  rights,  steal  hardly  earned  property, 
and  trample  .domestic  relations  under  foot;  but  he  did 
all  this  quietly,  with  calm  deliberation,  not  with  fury 
bordering  on  the  blood-thirstiness  of  a  beast    of    prey. 

But  Father  Medardus  gave  him  no  time  for  con- 
sideration.     Bowing  low,  he  said: 

"If  Monseigneur — we  are  all  human  —  if  Monseign- 
eur,  my  distinguished  penitent,  should  have  anything 
on  his  conscience,  holy  Mother  Church,  in  return  for 
such  service,  would  offer  complete  absolution,  open 
tlie  path  to  Heaven." 

A  dark  shadow  flitted  across  Louvois'  face  but  he 
controlled  himself. 

Father  Medardus  continued  to  whisper:  j 

"Monseigneur  might — "  i 

"What?"  ■    ' 

"If  he  would  lend  the  arm  of  worldly  power  to   the 
affairs  of  the  church — " 
.     "Well." 

"Greatly  increase  his  authority  and  influence," 


•  '■r^''_•«.  'jPi*'  //*-'^fi!yi.'if£L'ir,:ii.',AsiiSi^i^ 


■     ;- ^,  THE  SECRET  OF  THE  BRIDGE  433 

The  minister  started.  The  serpent  had  touched  the 
right  chord — this  was  his  vulnerable  spot. 

"Your  excellency  hitherto" — the  serpent  continued 
to  hiss — "has  exercised  little  influence  on  religious 
affairs.     If  within  a  short  time—" 

"Speak  out!" 

"If  within  a  short  time  the  rich  Huguenots — of  course 
without  any  mention  of  religion — " 

"Well?" 

"Should  be  obliged  to  lodge  dragoons." 

A  sudden  flash  of  light  darted  through  Louvois* 
soul. 

"Dragoons!"  he  exclaimed  under  his  breath — "for 
what  purpose?" 

"Only,"  continued  the  priest  cunningly,  "only  on 
the  pretext  that  this  had  become  necessary  for  the 
maintenance  of  the  army." 

"But  if  the  Catholics  are  spared — " 

"Every  intelligent  person  will  perceive  for  what 
this  measure  is  designed,  and  what  must  be  done  to 
avoid  having  soldiers  quartered  upon  him.  Thus 
Monseigneur  as  Minister  of  War,  will  have  an  influence 
in  church  matters  at  a  single  blow.  When  this  kind 
of  conversion  is  once  in  train — " 

"Hush,  holy  father! "  cried  Louvois,  starting  up 
in  violent  agitation — "His  Majesty  will  never  consent." 
'An  effort  must  be  made  to  turn  His  Majesty's  heart 
more  to  the  church — " 

Louvois  shook  his  head.   "So  long  as  theduchesse — " 

£8,     Robber 


S:l^t■J•'^^.  -t.  -^'ir^r'T^'-JV-— 


'S" 


V/^'.^/S^T-'-  :  V  .'■■''  0-  ■*'i'3^'''  ■ 


434  „  A    ROYAT.   ROBBER 

"Things  will  change!"  whispered  the  priest,  "and 
then  His  Majest)'  must  have  a  pious  soul  at  his  side." 

Louvois  was  silent,  but  paced  up  and  down  the  room 
with  hurried  steps. 

The  priest's  eyes  followed  him;  Medardus'  soul 
was  full  of  exultation.  He  saw  that  although  he  had 
not  yet  conquered,  much  of  what  he  had  said  lingered 
in  the  minister's  mind.  ;  : 

This  was  enough  for  the  crafty  Jesuit.  Therefore, 
when  Louvois  suddenly  paused  before  him  and  with 
a  slight  bend  of  the  head,  remarked: 

"Holy  Father,  as  a  good,  Catholic  Christian,  we  will 
heed  the  warnings  of  the  church."  Father  Medardus 
bowed  low,  uttered  his  benediction,  and  withdrew. 

Louvois  paced  silently  up  and  down  the  room, 
while  a  breathless  silence  prevailed. 

At  last  the  minister  raised  his  head.  Young  Cha- 
milH's  heart  throbbed  proudly  and  hopefuJl3^  It  was 
his  turn — the  next  moment  might  bring  the  fulfillment 
of  his  ambitious  plans. 

Then,  the  youth  turned  pale  as  death,  Louvois 
seated  himself  again  and  ordered  the  little  fat  mana- 
ger, Comte  de  RhuHeres  to  approach.  Rhulieres 
tripped  forward  with  low  bows,  smiling  brightly,  in 
spite  of  the  grave  face  of  the  dreaded  minister.  This 
man,  happy  in  his  narrow  sphere,  was  not  easily  dis- 
heartened. 

"Have  the  Spanish  actors  arrived?"  asked  the 
minister,  in  a  curt,  distant  tone.  j 


ii. 


^^,^:^^'-':f^^'^fKTr-.v^^..'' ' -'  "■■■■i*K^.>V-^~  ■  -  - •■^':«;'^'r^.-^=*?^£?t'!^>^--f^ . '^_,j<^—  ■■ 


THE   SECRET  OF  THE   BRIDGE  435 


"Yes,  Your  Excellency!"  replied  de  Rhulieres,  "and 
they  are  admirable  " 

"Any  remarkably  good  members   of   the   company?" 

"Donna  Antonia  Tordesillas  is  an  angel  in  beauty, 
a  goddess  in  her  performances — " 

"And  doubtless  a  queen  in  the  kitchen"~interrupted 
the  minister  with  keen  sarcasm — 'I  wish  her,  however, 
to  do  her  best  to  please  His  Majest}^  The  day  after 
the  first  performance  I  will  speak  to  her." 

The  manager's  face  had  grown  somewhat  longer, 
but  he  bowed  respectfully  and,  with  a  smile  still  lin- 
gering around  the  corners  of  his  mouth,  asked: 

"What  piece  does  Your  Excellency  desire  to  have 
given  at  the  first  performance?" 

"The  famous  comedy,  'El  Embaxador  desisismo,'  by 
Lope  de  Vega, "  said  Louvois,  and  a  wave  of  the 
hand  dismissed  the  manager. 

Chamilli  uttered  a  sigh  of  relief. 

Now  his  turn  would  probably  come.  , 

But  the  minister  passed  him  by  again.  The  invita- 
tion to  come  forward  was  addressed  to  General  pro- 
curator Forbonnais,  Councilor  of  the  Reu7iions-Kam- 
mern  of  Alsace. 

The  dignified  man  approached  with  a  firm  step  and 
a  low  bow. 

"Have  you  called  upon  Colbert,  the  chief  of  your 
department?"  asked  the  marquis. 

"I  shall  go  to  him,  in  accordance  with  my  duty," 
replied  Forbonnais  quietly,  "after  I    have   shown    my 


V"^  -        '  '-     -  *-  -   '       \    i: 

~  I   1 

436  '        ■  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  i       , 

I    ■  '    .. 

fidelity  to  the  first  and  greatest  man  in  the  kingdom, 
Monseigneur  Louvois;  to  him  first  belong  my  activity 
and  my  life.  "  ! 

An  almost  imperceptible  smile  flitted  over  the  mar- 
quis' stern  features.  Le  Telliers'  pride  was  doubly 
flattered,  since  Forbonnais'  duties  really  had  nothing 
to  do  with  the  Minister  of  War.  General  procurator 
Forbonnais  had  just  arived  from  Alsace,  his  first  visit 
ought  to  have  been  paid  to  Colbert— he  came  to 
Louvois. 

Louvois  was  still  the  most  powerful  minister,  but 
court  favor  is  a  frail  and  dangerous  ladder;  he,  who 
desires  to  mount  it,  ought  to  trust  only  the  firm,  stout 
rounds. 

"How  stands  the  affair  of  Plobsheim?"  asked  the 
minister. 

"As  Monseigneur  commanded,"  replied  Forbonnais. 

"Since  the  rights  of  the  families  von  Zorn  and  von 
Bernhold  have  expired  and  Herr  von  Giinzer,  sup- 
ported by  your  Excellency,  applied  for  this  fief  of 
France,  it  was  given  to  him  and  the  Sieur  Kampffer- 
"The  estate  and  castle  are  in  his  hands,  the  transfer 
registered  and  the  matter  thus  settled  forever." 

"And  the  families  of  von  Zorn  and  von    Bernhold?" 

"Will  make  a  great  outcry;  but  that  will  do  them 
no  good." 

"It  is  of  no  consequence  either;  both  families  are 
opposed  to  France.  With  the  loss  of  Plobsheim  their 
influence    will    be    destroyed.     Besides    His    Majesty 


::i 


^■''-  ■  THE   SECRET  OF  THE   BRIDGE  437 

says:  'tel  est  noire  plaisirT  And  Giinzer,  have  you 
nothing  to  tell  me  from  him?" 

"Yes,  Monseigneur;  but  I  don't  know  whether  I 
ought  here — " 

"What?  what?"  cried  Louvois  scarcely  concealing 
the  great  interest  he  took  in  the  communication. 

"It  is  not  much  after  all^ — " 

"Speak,  speak!" 

"He  wishes  your  Excellency  to  know  that  more 
than  half  the  paid  soldiers  are  lying  seriously  ill. 
Besides  the  time  of  t^ie  Frankfort  fair  is  approaching 
and  many  citizens  will  set  out  this  week  to  visit  the 
ancient  city. 

Forbonnais  was  silent. 

Louvois'  soul  was  full  of  exultation;  but  not  a 
muscle  of  his  grave,  cold  face  quivered.  On  the  con- 
trary, he  seemed  to  feel  unconquerable  scorn,  as  he 
now  asked  whether  this  was  all  Giinzer  had  confided. 

Forbonnais  assented. 

"Then  we  will  pass  on  to  other  matters,"  said  the 
minister. 

Forbonnais  advanced  nearer,  and  a  long,mysterious 
conversation  ensued.  The  Councilor  reported  in  de- 
tail what  he  intended  afterwards  to  communicate  to 
Colbert. 

The  position  occupied  by  Louvois  and  Colbert  to- 
wards each  other — although  they  were  externally  on 
the  best  of  terms — was  secretly,  on  account  of  their 
rivalry,  a  hostile  one. 


y 


438  "  A   KOYAL   ROBBER  "  i  ; 

Colbert  was  the  son  of  a  wine  dealer  in  Rheims,  Le 
Tellier,  Louvois''  father,  took  him  in  1668  into  his 
service,  which,  however,  Colbert  soon  exchanged  for 
that  of  Cardinal  Mazarin,  who  made  the  talented 
young  man  his  intendant. 

From  this  time  Colbert  hiad  a  share  in  the  financial 
affairs  of  France,  became  in  1654  secretar}'  to  the 
young  queen,  and  was  at  last  recommended  with  Lou- 
vois to  the  king  as  minister  by  the  dying  Mazarin. 

The  rivalry  between  the  two  immediatel}'  began, 
but  was  strictly  concealed,  as  outwardl}'  they  were 
absolutely  necessary  to  each  other,  Louvois  was  great 
in  war,  Colbert  in  finance;  both — by  war  and  finance — 
raised  Louis  XIV  to  the  height  of  power  which  gave 
him  fame  and  splendor.  Thus  both  were  indispensa- 
ble to  the  king  as  well  as  each  other,  only — neither 
wished  to  allow  the  other  a  superior  influence  over 
His  Majesty  and  the  government. 

It  was  the  old  struggle  for  supremacy.  And  the 
moles  worked  cleverly. 

Louvois  was  now  again  digging  his  subterranean 
mole-tracks.  To  be  sure  he  thus  gained  a  great  deal 
unobserved;  but  Colbert's  great  services  to  France 
sustained  him.  He  left  the  state  a  revenue  of  116 
millions  and  a  progress  in  art,  science  and  manufact- 
ures, which  flattery  ascribed  to  Louis  XIV,  the 
"Great." 

The  secret  conversation  between  Forbonnais  and  Le 
Tellier,  during  which  the  former   had   delivered   what 


-^-....-j 


THE    SE(„RET  OF  THE   BRIDGE  439 

was  apparently  a  very  important  letter  from  Giinzer, 
was  now  over. 

Once  more  Chamilli  hoped — and  again  in  vain. 

The  audience  had  continued  two  hours,  and  the 
Chevalier  de  Camilli  still    stood    in  the    background. 

Officers,  employees  in  the  War  Department,  with 
their  piles  of  papers,  councilors,  courtiers,  who  had 
various  secret  reports  to  make — some  regarding  the 
most  notorious  scandals  of  the  day — had  been  dis- 
missed. 

Now  the  last — retreating  towards  the  door  with  low 
bows — left  the  apartment. 

Young  Chamilli  stood  as  if  crushed.  How  many 
scornful  glances  had  fallen  upon  him — almost  every 
one  who  had  departed  had  given  him  a  sarcastic 
smile — how  his  chest  had  heaved  each  time  the  pow- 
erful minister  uttered  another  name  than  his,  signed  to 
another  to  approach. 

And  no  glance  from  Louvois  had  fallen  upon  him! 
None  was  vouchsafed  now  and  yet  he  was  alone  with 
the  minister,  who  paced  slowly  and  thoughtfully  up 
and  down  the  room. 

Suddenly  he  paused  before  him. 

Chamilli  trembled,  but  Louvois'  eyes  did  not  rest 
disapprovingly  upon  him. 

"Young  man,"  he  began;  "I  have  kept  you  waiting 
a  long  time  and  apparently  overlooked  you.  Do  you 
know  why?" 

"Monseigneur,  in  his  wisdom,    undoubtedly  has    ex- 


*■■■ 


440  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  \    '- 

cellent  reasons  for  it,"  replied  the  young  chevalier, 
with  a  low  bow.  , 

"Yes!"  said  Louvois,  "those  I  undoubted}'  have  and 
they  are  of  a  twofold  nature.  In  the  first  place  I 
detained  you  to  give  you  a  proof  of  my  confidence. 
You  are  to  have  an  important  secret  commission;  but  it 
also  occurred  to  me  to  give  you  in  the  commencement 
of  your  career  a  lesson  upon  which  your  whole  success 
depends.  Machiavelli's  policy  rests  upon  the  great 
principle  of  always  subordinating  the  lesser  advantage 
to  the  greater.  So — in  your  situation,  ardent  self- 
conscious  youth,  overweening  self-conceit  must  bend 
to  the  higher  welfare  of  the  state.  Always  remember, 
young  man,  these  hours  which  made  you  so  clearly 
feel  your  own  insignificance;  then  you  will  never  lack 
the  self-denial,  and  submission  to  guidance,  so  neces- 
sary to  a  diplomatic  career." 

There  was  a  touch  of  sarcasm  in  the  last  words, 
even  though  they  were  perhaps  well-meant;  satirical 
manner  was  one  of  the  characteristics  of  the  states- 
man. 

Young  Chamilli  was  clever  enough  to  understand 
this  manner  and,  on  being  requested  to  give  an  account 
of  his  last  mission,  did  so  with  calmness  and  modesty. 

He  had  really  accomplished  all  that  could  be  ex- 
pected, and  the  minister  declared  himself  satisfied,  an 
event  that  rarely  happened. 

Chamilli's  expectations  of  higher  and  more  im- 
portant duties  again  rose.     The  minister  had  just  told 


'u:^^±^^^'-^^ff5^%:I'i^'t:tiS»i^'^i:^   -  .       _     ■ . 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE  BRIDGE  :         441 

hmTtRat  he  was  to  have  an  important  secret  commis- 
sion. During  the  last  few  days  rumors  had  been  in 
circulation  at  the  court  about  great  political  events, 
which  were  close  at  hand. 

Louvois'  keen  eyes  doubtless  read  this  expectation 
in  the  features  of  the  young  man,  who  had  just  entered 
the  school  of  dissimulation  and  was  anything  but  a 
master  in  the  art. 

Again  a  scornful  smile  flitted  over  his  stern,  gloom}' 
features,  as  he  continued: 

"Chevalier!  You  have  justified  the  confidence  I 
reposed  in  you.  As  a  reward  you  shall  now  receive 
a  new,  and  extremely  important  mission.  ' 

"I  am  at  your  service,  Monseigneur! "  cried  the 
young  man  eagerly,  his  eyes  sparkling  with  joy.  "I 
will  risk  my  life  to  satisfy  Your  Excellency." 

"Very  well!  "  continued  Louvois  quietly,  with  a 
peculiar  smile,   "then  listen." 

Chamilli  drew  himself  up  in  attitude  of  eager 
attention. 

"Go,"  began  the  minister  slowly,  placing  a  strong 
emphasis  upon  each  word,  "go  this  very  evening  to 
Basle  in  Switzerland.  You  will  remain  there  three 
days.  On  the  fourth,  punctually  at  two  o'clock, 
station  yourself,  provided  with  paper,  pen  and  ink,  on 
the  bridge  that  crosses  the  Rhine.  Watch  and  write 
down  with  the  utmost  care  ever5'thing  that  passes  be- 
fore your  eyes  for  two  hours.  Precisely  at  four  o'clock, 
take  post-horses,  travel  day  and  night,  and    bring    me 


442  A    ROVAL   ROBBER  j  ;:       ' 

your  observations.     At  whatever  hour  you  may  arrive, 
report  yourself  to  me  at  once.     Do  you  understand?" 

Chamilli  assented,  though  this  commission  made 
him  ready  to  sink  into  the  earth. 

So  this  was  the  hoped  for  higher  diplomatic  employ- 
ment. Could  not  an  ordinary  clerk  be  used  for  such  a 
purpose? 

But  Louvois,  the  all  powerful  minister,  had  com- 
manded, and  was  it  not  possible  that  on  the  bridge  of 
Basle,  Heaven  knows  what  complications  might  arise?  _- 
Important — yes,  the  matter  must  be  of  great  impor- 
tance, that  was  proved  b)'  the  closing  words:  "At 
whatever  hour  you  may  arrive,  report  yourself  to  me_ 
at  once." 

"And,"  Louvois  now  added  gravely,  "you  will  answer  ■ 
to  me  with  your  life  for  the  most  absolute  secrec\-  in  ~, 
regard  to  this  commission  and  everything  relating  to  it."    ~ 

"I  will,"  replied  the  chevalier,  bowing. 

"Then  may  God  be  with  you,"  replied  Le  Tellier,  and 
he  dismissed  the  young  man  by  a  wave  of  the  hand. 

It  was  on  the  fourth  day  after  this  conversation,  at 
precisely  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  that  le  Chevalier 
de  Chamilli  stepped  upon  the  bridge  at  Basle. 

On  leaving  Paris,  he  had  laid  aside  his  court  dress 
and  donned  the  coslume  of  a  simple  citizen — the  style" 
adopted   by  the    artists    and    authors    of    those    days.     > 
And  in  fact  the  attire  was  very  becoming  to  the  young  . 
man;    it  gave  him  an  air  of  originality  well   suited    to     ■ 
an  artist. 


^5^^r'3*^?^''^w'iJ^'^2Mj4'--"-   -  -1^^^  --=a7Tf"^/--  ■r';  ■  .r-;*^-,."'^^:,;     -     ■.-.■-■=;-»--,.'^  Js^^aPTT^^' J " 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE  BRIDGE  443 

The  servant  who  accompanied  him  on  the  journey 
was  also  obliged  to  exchange  his  livery  for  a  plain 
coat. 

The  gay,  French  blood  flowed  in  his  veins  and 
Chamilli  at  last  laughed  at  himself  and  his  commis- 
sion. Curiosity  to  see  what  would  happen  on  the 
bridge  at  Basle  outweighed  wounded  pride,  and  as 
provided  with  paper,  pen  and  ink  he  now  assumed 
his  strange'  post,  the  whole  affair  seemed  extremely 
comical. 

However,  there  was  no  time  to  think  of  himself  and 
his  situation;  the  passing  was  sufficiently  constant  to 
claim  his  whole  attention.  A  corner  was  quickly 
chosen,  the  little  inkstand  placed  on  a  beam,  the 
paper  taken  from  his  pocket  and  the  pen  from  a  small 
tin  case  and—  the  oddest  of  all  records  began. 

Peasant  women  returning  from  market  with  their 
empty  baskets;  and  a  traveler  in  a  blue  coat  on  horse- 
back crossed  the  bridge. 

Chamilli  wrote:  peasant  women,  etc.,  a  traveler  in  a 
blue  -coat,  with  long  riding  boots,  a  dog-whip  in  his 
hand. 

Then  came  an  old  peasant,  a  ragged  beggar,  a 
porter. 

The  perspiration  ran  down  the  young  diplomat's 
forehead.  He  was,  according  to  the  minister's  com- 
mands, to  watch  and  write  down  with  the  utmost  care 
everything  that  passed  before  his  eyes  for  two    hours. 

Young  Chamilli    wiped    the    perspiration    from    his 


,;  :^^iuilliEM«>A 


EMKsti-'if:'?."^': 


444  A   ROVAL   ROBBER  .        I   - 

brow.  His  strange  reporting  was  making  him  very 
warm.  Shaking  his  head,  he  took  up  the  pen  again; 
but  the  slight  frown  on  his  brow  instantly  relaxed,  an 
extremely  pretty  girl  in  burgher  dress  was  passing 
him. 

The  eyes  of  the  two  young  people  met,  and  both 
flushed  crimson. 

Chamilli  wrote:  a  pretty  burgher  maiden,  simple  in 
dress  and  appearance,  is  passing  by  with  a  little  open 
basket  on  her  arm — but  here  a  gap  occurred  in  the 
record;  the  mutual  look  and  blush  took  place. 

Again  came  market  women,  peasants,  a  shepherd 
with  a  flock  of  sheep. 

A  thief,  with  his  hands  bound  behind  his  back,  was 
also  led  across  by  bailiffs. 

Then  came  more  citizens  passing  to  and  fro— wagons 
of  all  kinds,  a  party  of  gipsies,  gamblers,  drunkards, 
singing  merry  songs  In  their  glee. 

Chamilli  perspired  furiously;  he  was  secretly  very 
angry  at  being  obliged  to  write  down  such  trifles — at 
being  entrusted  with  such  a  commission.  His  excita- 
ble nature  rebelled  against  the  minister,  and  his  heart 
throbbed  passionately. 

Suddenly  he  smilingly  laid  his  hand  upon  his  beat- 
ing heart;  two  joiners  were  carr3'ing  a  new  coffin — the 
quiet  lodging  of  a  now  quiet  man — across  the   bridge. 

And  Chamilli  gayly  noted  down  the  joiners  and  the 
coffin.     The  clocks  in  Basle  were  striking  three. 

At    the    same  moment,  a  man  in  a  yellow  vest    and 


7"     ^     "^ 


THE  SECRET  OF  TttE  BRIDGt  445 

yellow  breeches  stopped  in  the  middle  of  the  bridge, 
then  approached  the  river,  leaned  over  the  parapet, 
gazed  down  into  the  water  and  with  a  large  cane  gave 
three  distinct  raps  on  the  floor. 

Fool  I  thought  Chamilli,  and  fuming  over  his  child- 
ish task,  wrote  down  the  occurrence.  If  it  had  not 
been  Monseigneur  Louvois  who  had  given  him  the 
commission,  he  would  have  thought  himself  the  fool. 
As  it  was,  by  Heaven,  he  was  on  the  point  of  throw- 
ing the  paper  into  the  water. 

But  see!  Ah! — this  was  some  little  compensation 
for  the  tiresome  work,  the  pretty  burgher  maiden  came 
back. 

She  had  probably  been  to  some  garden  near  the 
bridge,  for  her  little  basket  was  now  filled  with  autumn, 
roses;  but  still  brighter  than  these  was  the  crimson 
flush  on  her  cheeks  as  soon  as  she  perceived  tho 
young  man. 

It  is  strange  how  suddenly  a  mutual  kindness,  a 
mutual  attraction,  flames  up  in  young  hearts  without 
any  acquaintance,  without  the  exchange  of  a  single 
word. 

So  it  was  here,  and  the  fact  was  announced  by  the 
mutual  blushes;  the  glance  with  which  the  young 
people  looked  at  each  other,  revealed  to  them  the 
strange  emotion  which  had  so  suddenly  and  unex- 
pectedly taken  possession  of  their  hearts.  Was  it  ac- 
cident or  design?  As  the  girl  passed  the  handsome 
young  man — whom  she  probably  took  for  an  artist,  one 


i-Traf^  wf  ■^•i  jgrs'^'-'    ■>;«™B^5«"wjSE'«^»-yy  ]        '<^t 


446  A  ROYAL  ROBBEft  I 

of  the  most  beautiful  roses  fell  at  Chamilli's  feet.  Of 
course  the  young  Frenchman's  passionate  heart  glowed 
with  redoubled  ardor.  The  rose  was  a  frank  confession 
of  love  to  the  hot  blooded  chevalier  a  confession  that 
found  full  confirmation  in  the  happy  smile  that  flitted 
over  the  girl's  features  as — looking  back — she  saw 
him  hastily  raise  the  flower  and  press  it  joyously  to 
his  lips. 

At  this  moment  the  young  man  had  completely  for- 
gotten his  commission,  the  bridge,  even  Louvois  and 
his  own  ambitious  hopes  for  the  future.  ' 

"Follow  her!"  cried  a  voice  in  his  heart,  "follow 
the  lovely  creature!" 

And  he  was  actually  on  the  point  of  throwing  pen 
and  paper,  together  with  the  childish,  useless  reports 
he  had  been  writing  and  over  which  he  had  been 
angrily  fretting,  into  the  water,  when — his  carriage 
drove  up  and  almost  at  the  same  moment  the  clock 
in  the  city  struck  four.  1 

Oh!  accursed  recollection  —"Precisely  at  four  o'clock 
take  post-horses,  travel  day  and  night  and  bring  me 
your  observations.  At  whatever  hour  you  may  arrive, 
report  yourself  to  me  at  once,"  Louvois  had  said  with 
a  grave  face  and  stern  glance.  No  jest  was  concealed 
behind  those  words,  but  grave  earnest  to  which  the 
thought  of  the  Bastile  lent  a  gloomy  background.  It 
brought  the  chevalier  back  to  his  senses. 

He  cast  one  more  glance  after  the  pretty  girl  who 
again  turned  towards  him,  then,  cursing   himself  and 


..  i 


tHE   SECRET  OF  THE   BRIDGE  447 

all  diplomatic  commissions,  the  young  man  threw 
himself  into  the  carriage.  The  horses  started  and 
dashed  away  like  the  wind   towards  Paris. 

But  the  return  was  even  more  unpleasant  to  Mon- 
sieur de  Chamilli  than  the  journey  to  Basle  had  been. 
.  What  in  the  name  of  Heaven  and  all  the  saints  had 
he  to  report  to  the  minister? 

Nothing!  nothing  of  any  importance  had  happened 
on  the  bridge  during  the  two  hours.  What  did  his 
notes  contain;  they  were  a  mere  record  of  market 
women,  beggars,  citizens,  a  shepherd,  an  old  clergy- 
man with  his  pupils,  a  fellow  in  a  yellow  vest  and 
breeches  who  acted  like  a  fool.  Ah!  and  a  confoundedly 
pretty  girl,  with  whom  he  might  have  had  a  delightful 
flirtation  and  from  whom  he  was  obliged  to  run  away. 

Chamilli  struck  his  forehead  angrily. 

And  what  would  the  minister  say  to  such  trifles. 
Oh!  surely,  surely,  he  had  expected  more — different 
things! 

Might  not  this  deprive  the  young  nian  of  Louvois* 
favor  and  thus  ruin  his  future  without  any  fault  of  his 
own — for — he  was  sure  of  this — nothing  had  escaped 
his  notice. 

Two  days  after  leaving  the  bridge  he  arrived  in 
Paris.  It  was  midnight,  but  the  door  of  the  minister's 
apartments  instantly  opened  to  him. 

Louvois  hastily  advanced  to  meet  him. 

*'The  paper! "  were  his  only  words.  Chamilli,  in 
great  embarrassment,  delivered  it. 


■'■.-.  -1 


•-'    '        448  A    ROVAL   ROBBEH    .  i  _. 

The  Marquis  de  Louvois,  sat  down  and  read  the 
contents  with  eager  attention.  Suddenly,  as  he  reached 
the  place  where  mention  was  made  of  the  man  in 
yellow  vest  and  breeches,  who  had  rapped  three  times 
with  his  stick,  he  started  up  in  delight.  1  ^ 

"The  victory  is  ours!"  he  exclaimed.   "To  the  king!" 
.-    Chamilli  was  obliged  to  follow. 
"*  His  Majesty  was  asleep.     Louvois  ordered    him    to 

be  awaked  and  entered. 

Chamilli,  fairly  beside  himself  with  amazement, 
waited  in  the  ante-room.  He  now  heard  that  four 
couriers  had  been  awaiting  his  arrival  for  several  hours. 

Fifteen  minutes  after,  the  doors  of  the  royal  sleep- 
ing room  opened  and  the  minister,  greatly  excited, 
come  out.  He  held  four  despatches  in  his  hand. 
The  couriers  advanced  one  by  one — each  received  a 
despatch  and  a  sealed  order  which  must  be  opened  at 
the  first  station  he  reached. 

A  sign — and  all  hurried  away. 

"We  are  satisfied  Chamilli  1"  said  the  minister. 
"Now  rest  alter  your  fatiguing  journey.  Your  diplo- 
matic career,  if  you  continue  to  be  equally  faithful, 
will  be  a  prosperous  one.  You  can  take  with  you  the 
assurances  of  His  Majesty's  favor  and  mine.  To  give 
you  an  opportuinty  of  seeing  the  pretty  girl  again," 
JLouvois  added  smiling — "you  shall  return  to  Basle  in 
a  week  on  a  more  peaceful  mission."  i 

With  these  words  the  minister  dismissed  the  sur- 
prised and  overjoyed  young  man. 


CHARTER  n. 

THE    gardener's  WIFE. 

Entering  Strassburg  at  the  present  day  through  the 
ancient  "Weissenthier, "  one  perceives  on  the  inner 
side  of  this  gate,  which  dates  from  the  time  of  the 
Reformation,  a  face  carved  in  stone  with  a  broad  thick 
tongue  stretched  far  out  of  the  mouth. 

This  place  was  at  the  time  of  our  story  and  still  re- 
mains— the  quarter  of  the  Strassburg  gardeners. 

At  the  time  of  which  we  are  writing,  this  gardeners* 
quarter  and  the  gardeners'  guild  were  in  their  prime. 
Many  of  the  now  ancient  and  dilapidated  houses  were 
still  new  and  looked  pleasantly  forth  from  among  the 
gardens  that  surrounded  them.  At  the  end  of  this 
quarter  stood  a  one  story  house,  to  which  were  attached 
several  fields  of  vegetables  and  a  small,  well-kept 
flower  garden.  All  this  was  the  property  of  a  young 
gardener  named  Geiger,  who  had  been  married  two 
years,  and  who  was  called  on  account  of  his  skill  in 
the  culture  of  flowers  "Flower  Geiger,"  a  nickname 
which  pleased  the  man  all  the  better  because  he  felt 
that  it  honored  his  profession. 

Geiger' s  wife  was  a  stout,  muscular  woman,  neither 

beautifdl  nor  ugly;  strong  and  hardy  as  was  natural  in 

*9  '       -    ,  44Q 


M^^.'S,. 


-     ■    ■    ^      -  ■  J  '   -■■ 

450  A  ROYAL  ROBBER  I     ■  _; 

her  profession,  for  she  was  a  gardener's  daughter". 
She  had  no  children,  and  therefore  could  devote  her- 
self entirely  to  her  business;  but  this  consisted  chiefly 
-^  in  selling  flowers  and  vegetables — while  her  husband 
was  working  in  the  fields  and  garden. 

She  did  not  do  a  bad  business,  for  she  was  cunning 
and  extremely  avaricious.      To  earn  money,  everything 
was  right  to   her.      Her    avarice  had    become    such    a 
proverb  among    the    neighbors    and    members    of    the     . 
guild,  that  when   they    wanted    to    speak    of    another    ': 
miserly  woman  they  said  in    their    rude    way:     "Yes,    ' 
she'd  sell  clothes  and  soul  like  Geiger's  wife." 

But  to-day  the  usually  industrious  woman    did    not    ^ 
go  to  work.      Her  husband  had  gone  to  his   field   out-  ; 
side  the  city  early  in  the  morning — a    large   basketful 
of  flower-pots  and  plants  in  blossom  stood  on  a  stone 
bench  before  the  house,  ready  for  her  to   carry    about 
the  city,  as  she  did  almost  daily  during    the    summer    - 
and  autumn  whether  it   was    market    da)'    or    not,  but' 
the  basket  was  untouched,  the  flowers  still    waited    to 
be  carried  away,  though  the  sun  already  stood  high  in 
the  heavens.  •  ": 

The  gardener's  wife  was   pacing  restlessly    up    and  : 
down  as  people  do  when  expecting  some  one. 

She  often  went  to  the  end  of  the  little  garden  and 
looked  out  into  the  street. 

The  woman  was  dressed  to  go  out  and,  though  she  only 
wore  the  simple  costume  adopted  by  all  the  women 
and  the  girls  of  the  gardener's  guild,  looked  very  neat. 


.1 


<  THE   gardener's  WIFE  45 1 

She  looked  very  pretty,  this  gardener's  wife,  with 
the  bright  eyes  and  red  cheeks  that  gave  her  sunburnt 
face  an  expression  of  exuberant  health. 

She  pulled  her  skirt  a  little  farther  down  on  the 
sides  with  both  hands.  And  the  bodice  required  a 
little  adjusting  too. 

Now  her  figure  looked  slighter. 

Then  she  tightened  her  garter,  smiling  at  the  hand- 
some calf  reflected  in  the  water. 

Now  the  other  garter  needed  tightening. 

From  whom  did  she  receive  these  handsome  garters. 

Her  husband? 

Oh!  no,a  plain  gardener  doesn't  buy  such  dainty  things. 

Wasn't  that  a  G.  wrought  in  pearls  that  appeared  in 
the  center  of  one? 

Again  the  woman  smiled  as  she  fastened  above  her 
knee  the  second  garter  with  the  pearl  G. 

Her  husband — who  usually  felt  great  respect  for  his 
wife's  tongue — had  once  asked  her  where  she  got  the 
"things"  and  what  the  G.  meant? 

"From  a  friend,"  she  answered  with  her  arms 
akimbo,  "and  the  G.  meansr  God  preserve  us  from  a 
stupid,  inquisitive  man. "  Since  that  time  the  gardener 
had  asked  no  more  questions  of  the  kind. 

The  garters  were  now  firm  and  the  woman  stood  up. 

Not  a  soul  was  in  sight. 
.  The  basket  of   flowers    had    been    standing    on    the 
bench  three  hours — for  three    hours    the    woman    had 
been  ready  to  go  out— what  was  lacking? 


.~,<^.ki££L'iiM^^li^i;^:^?EL^^i>r  'M 


K?  -  r"J  .■\^.-  ~,'-%*^.T;>-'X  -i^ 


452  A   ROYAL   ROBBER  .-.         |-.> 

She  generally  did  not  waste  a  minute,  and  if  kept 
waiting  while  engaged  in  business  made  her  customers 
pay  well  for  it.  ^  , 

She  must  undoubtedly  have  been  well  paid  for  the 
delay  this  morning;  or  she  wouldn't  have  had  so 
pleasant  a  face  over  it.  i 

Even  now,  as  if  for  consolation,  she  drew  several 
ducats  out  of  her' pocket,  eyed  them  lovingly  and  after 
a  few  moments,  put  them  back  again. 

Still  no  one  came. 

But  stop.  Was  not  somebody  approaching  up  the 
street? 

Yes. 

But  the  person  was  not  the  man  she  expected — he 
wore  neither  a  yellow  vest  nor  yellow  breeches  and 
carried  no  cane.  1 

The  figure  was  small,  the  head  rested  stiffly  between 
high  shoulders. 

"Ah,  it's  he,"  said  the  gardener's  wife  in  a  con- 
temptuous tone — "what  does  he  want  here?" 

Wenck  was  coming  up  the  street. 

"Curse  the  luck!"  she  added,  "and  just  now.  I  wish 
the  tailor  was  in  Jericho.  I  must  get  rid  of  him  as 
quick  as  I  can.      If  Herr  Giinzer  should  know,  or  if — " 

Wenck  was  just  entering  the  garden,  the  woman 
hurried  towards  him. 

"Good-morning,  Fran  Geiger!"  cried  the  little  tailor 
pleasantly. 

"Good-morning!"  she  replied,  by  no  means  in  the 
same  tone 


^:-,, M^ 


-'  '  THE  GNRDENER's  WIFE  453 

"I  should  like  a  pretty  bouquet,"  replied  Wenck 
and  it  was  evident  he  was  ver}'  much  delighted. 

"Bouquet?"  said  the  gardener's  wife,  "I  haven't 
time  to  make  one  now. " 

"That  isn't  necessary." 

"Shall  I  get  it  by  witchcraft?" 

"Why  so?    You  have  several  in  your  basket." 

"They  are  engaged." 

"All?" 

"All  three." 

"And  what  does  one  of  them  cost?" 

The  woman  named  an  extravagant  price, 

Wenck  looked  at  her  with  a  comical  expression, 
but,  as  he  knew  her  disposition,  said  no  more  but  laid 
a  larger  sum  than  she  asked  on  the  stone  bench  beside 
the  basket. 

This  produced  its  effect.  • 

"There,  take  one,  I  shall  make  nothing  by  it,  for 
they  are  rare  now  and  onlj^  to  be  had  from  hot-houses," 
said  Frau  Geiger  in  a  somewhat  more  amicable  tone, 
hastily  pocketing  the  money. 

Wenck  obeyed  and  selected  one  of  the  bouquets. 

"Ah!"  said  he,  "if  you  only  knew  for  whom  and  for 
what  festival  the  flowers  were  intended." 

"How  shall  I?" 

"Guess?" 

"A  wedding?" 

"Pshaw!" 

"A  christening?" 


...^j^'"- .^''■^'.  _^_1^_..^  ..'?*'^i»iBk:_j» 


*  >S-' 


454  A    ROYAL    ROBBER 

"No." 

"Then  I  don't  know." 

"The  celebration  of  a  recovery." 

"And  who  has  got  well?" 

"Who?  One  of  the  noblest  and  best  men  in  all 
Strassburg. " 

"Do  you  know  whom  I  mean?"  continued  the  little 
tailor  loquaciously. 

"No!"  .  I 

"Well— Syndicus  Frantz." 

"What!"  exclaimed  the  woman  in  surprise — "has  he 
got  well?" 

"Yes!  "  cried  Wenck,  his  little  eyes  sparkling  with 
joy.  "With  God's  help  the  noble  man  has  escaped 
death.  Well,  who  knows  what  good  it  may  do!  To- 
day— though  still  pale  and  weak — he  attends  the  council 
for  the   first  time,  and  I  must  show  him  my   heartfelt 

joy.  ■ 

"It  was  said  that  he  would  never  recover." 
"Of  course,  and  there  were  many  evil-minded  people, 
in  and    out  of    Strassburg,    who    desired    it.      But  our 
Lord  has  preserved  to  Strassburg  her  best  citizen." 

"Why!"  cried  the  gardener's  wife,  scornfully,  "mat- 
ters are  not  quite  so  bad  as  that.  There  are  other  able 
men   here." 

"None  better  than  the  Syndicus,  Heaven  knows! 
The  poor  man  was  in  a  bad  way  and  his  family  too. 
For  weeks  he  hovered  on  the  verge  of  the  grave,  and 
mother  and  daughter — and    somebody  else — never  left 


„,"s:,£,\, ;..::..; 


THE  gardener' S  WIFE  455 

his  bedside.  Oh!  my  dear  woman,  you  might  have 
learned  there  what  true  love  is.  They  nursed  him  day 
and  night,  and  night  and  day  without  giving  them- 
selves a  moment's  rest." 

The  gardener's  wife  looked  restlessly  around. 

"And  he  had  an  evil  dish!"  said  the  tailor  with 
marked  emphasis. 

"I  must  go!"  said  the  woman.  "I  really  must  go, 
I  have  something  to  do  in  the  city." 

But  the  gardener's  wife  now  became  very  uneasy. 
She  fancied  she  saw  another  figure  hastily  approaching. 

She  could  no  longer  control  her  restlessness.  "Fare 
well!"  she  said  again,  this  time  in  a  very  snappish 
tone.  "Here  is  the  best  way  out."  She  opened  a  gate 
."  opposite  to  the  one  by which  Wenck  had  entered  the 
.  garden  and  which  led  through  the  gardener's  quarter 
into  the  center  of  the  cit}',  and  at  the  same  time  pushed 
the  little  tailor  out  in  by  no  means  the  most  gentle 
manner, 

"May  Satan  take  him!"  she  muttered.  "If  I  had 
known  the  bouquet  was  for  Syndicus  Frantz,  he 
certainly  wouldn't  have  got  it." 

As  Wenck  left  the  garden,  she  carefully  locked  the 
gate  through  which  he  had  passed  and  hurried  in  the 
opposite  direction. 

The  man  she  had  just  perceived  in  the  distance  was 
advancing  so  rapidly  that  his   pace    resembled*  a    run 
.  rather  than  a  walk. 

"It  is  hel"  cried  Frau  Geiger  in   evident    agitation. 


456  A   ROYAL    ROBBER 

Yes!  The  man  hurrying  towards  her  wore  a  yellow 
vest,  yellow  breeches  and  carried  a  stout  cane. 

When  he  saw  the  woman  waiting  at  the  garden 
gate,  he  suddenly  stopped,  tossed  the  cane  three  times 
into  the  air  as  if  in  sport,  caught  it  again  and  then 
rapidly  approached  her.  1  v^ 

Frau  Geiger — without  saying  a  word — took  the  cane. 

The  woman  now  walked  forward,  followed  by  her 
companion. 

He  was  bathed  in  perspiration — covered   with  dust. 

It  was  evident  that  he  had  been  running  a  long  dis- 
tance. - 

In  fact  as  soon  as  he  reached  the  house,  he  sank 
down  on  a  wooden  bench,  almost  fainting.  Brandy 
and  water,  bread  and  cheese  stood  ready  for  him. 
Wiping  the  perspiration  from  his  forehead  with  his 
shirt  sleeve,  he  seized  the  glass  and  emptied  the  con- 
tents at  a  single  draught. 

'  No  word  had  yet  been  exchanged  between  the  two, 
but  the  gardener's  wife  held  out  her  hand  to  the  man. 
as  if  she  expected  to  receive  something. 

"Here!"  said  the  latter  at  last,  drew  from  under  his 
vest  a  small  leather  pouch  suspended  by  a  leather 
strap,  and  gave  it  to  the  woman. 

She  snatched  it  eagerly,  pulled  her  handkerchief 
from  her  shoulders,  slipped  her  head  through  the  strap,. 
Vet  the  pouch  slide  down  under  her  bodice,  fastened 
the  handkerchief  again,  and  running  to  the  basket  of 
flowers,  which  had  been  ready  several  hours,  lifted  it 
on  her  head. 


3^.f^.vi! 


"  :     ^-,    THfi  gardener's  WIFE  457 

When  it  was  firmly  placed  on  her  head,  she  hurried 
off  towards  the  city  without  troubling  herself  in  the 
least  about  the  man  sitting  in  the  house. 

But  the  man,  who  had  already  made  a  four  hours 
journey  and  traversed,  almost  at  a  run,  the  distance 
from  the  spot  where  a  French  courier  on  a  horse 
covered  with  foam,  had  handed  him  the  leather  pouch, 
fell  asleep  from  weariness  as  soon  as  he  had  finished 
his  breakfast, 

Meantime  the  gardener's  wife  hurried  as  fast  as  her 
feet  could  carry  her  to  Herr  Giinzer's  house. 

On  reaching  here,  she  hastily  ascended  the  steps, 
opened  a  door  and  stood  in  the  private  apartment  of 
the  master  of  the  dwelling. 

"Ha!"  cried  Giinzer,  who  was  pacing  up  and  down, 
evidently  in  the  greatest  agitation  and  had  been  waiting 
for  his  visitor  a  long  time — "at  last,  at  last!  Has  he 
come?" 

"I  ran  instantly  like  a  weasel  as  j'our  Excellenc}- 
commanded,  with  the  basket  which  had  already  been 
read)^  several  hours,"  said  Frau  Geiger,  removing  the 
basket  with  Giinzer's  aid  and  setting  it  on   the    floor. 

"And  the  pouch,  the  pouch!" 

The  woman  removed  her  handkerchief  and  drew  the 
pouch  from  her  bosom. 

Giinzer  eagerly  seized  it;  he  could  scarcely  wait  for 
her  to  draw  her  head  out  of  the  strap  by  which  it  was 
suspended. 

He  now  took  a  key,  which  he    wore    fastened    by    a 


458  A    ROYAL    ROBBER 

cord  around  his  own  neck  and  unfastened  the    lock   of 
the  leather  bag.  I 

If  Giinzer — sentenced  to  death — had  been  standing  on 
the  scaffold  and  expected  to  find  his  pardon  in  the 
pouch,  his  movements  could  not  have  been  more 
rapid. 

/  His  hands  trembled  as  he  unlocked  it  and  drew  out 
a  despatch  fastened  by  a  large  seal. 

It  was  Louvois'  seal,  the  paper  was  addressed  to  the 
Sieur  Giinzer  of  Plobsheim. 

The  man  devoured  the  lines  with  sparkling  eyes — 
at  each  word  his  brow  cleared  and  instead  of  an  anx- 
ious, troubled  look  his  face  at  last  wore  an  expression 
of  the  utmost  triumph. 

The  gardener's  wife,  who  seemed  to  be  perfectly  at 
home  here,  had  meantime  sat  down  in  a  chair  and 
watched  him  intently. 

The  neck  handkerchief  still  lay  en  the  floor  beside 
the  basket;  but  the  provoking  garters  with  the  pearl 
G.  would  not  stay  fastened  to-day. 

As  Giinzer  finished  the  letter,  the  woman  was  just 
tightening  one.  His  eyes  glittered,  his  head  burned, 
he  took  a  step  forward  but  hastily  turned  as  if  an 
iron  hand  had  seized  and  snatched  him  back. 

"Madman!"  he  murmured,  "let  childish  follies  alone. 
Have  you  not  more  important  things  to  do?" 

Hastening  to  a  drawer  in  his  writing-table,  he  took 
out  a  handful  of  ducats,  went  back  and  threw  them 
into  the  lap  of  the  delighted  woman. 


THE  gardener's  WIFE  459 

"That's  a  token  of  gratitude  for  your  services, 
Anna!"  he  said,  "but  they  are  not  yet  over  and — you 
must  do  still  more  for  me." 

The  woman's  whole  face  was  one  broad,  radiant 
smile  of  delight.  Gunzer  had  never  been  so  liberal  as 
to-day,  why  should  she  not  declare  herself  ready  for 
any  farther  services? 

She  did  so. 

"I  require  an  oath,  Anna,"  said  Gunzer. 

'An  oath?"  repeated  the  woman.      "About  what?" 

"That  you  will  conceal  from  all  the  world — even  your 
husband — to  the  hour  of  your  death,  the  secret  services 
you  have  performed  and  will  still  render." 

"From  that  simpleton,"  cried  the  woman  laughing, 
"I  should  have  plenty  to  do  if  I  bothered  about  every- 
thing he  needn't  know." 

"But  from  every  one  else." 

"You  have  already  seen,  Herr  Gunzer,  that  I  know 
how  to  rule  my  tongue." 

"Anna!"  said  Giinzer,  putting  his  arm  affectionately 
around  her  waist,  "these  are  secrets  of  a  nature — " 

"What  do  I  care  for  your  secrets.  I  don't  want  to 
know  them.     If  I  can  earn  something  by — " 

"Why  I  think  you  might  be  satisfied  to-day." 

"Good  gracious!     So  I  am." 

"But  if  you  want  to  earn  more  in  the  same    way — " 

"Give  me  the  oath,  Herr  Gunzer!"  she  cried,  raising 
her  right  hand. 

Gunzer  made  her  vow  secrecy  with  a   terrible  oath. 


460  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  '  j. 

-   I 

"And  now,"  he  said,  "listen.  Have  you  put  the 
flowers  in  your  basket  as  I  told  you?  " 

"Of  course,  there  are  twelve  little  pots  of  plants  and 
three  bouquets." 

"One,  two,  three,  six — nine — -twelve.  Yes.  But 
there  are  only  two  bouquets. " 

"Then  one  must  have  dropped   out  of    the    basket." 

"Make  two  out  of  one  as  quick  as  you  can." 

The  gardener's  wife  did  so,  bending  low  over  the 
basket.  The  neck  handkerchief  still  lay  on  the  ground 
and  Giinzer  saw  something  more  beautiful  than  flowers. 

The  bouquet  was  now  divided  into  two  smaller 
ones,  and  the  garcjener's  wife  stood  erect. 

"Now  then,  Anna,  quick!"  cried  Giinzer,  with  an 
energy  unusual  to  him.  "The  greatest  haste  is  neces- 
sary. Twelve  flower-pots  and  three  bouquets  make 
fifteen.  Here  are  the  addresses  of  fifteen  of  the  most 
prominent  magistrates.  Go — as  fast  as  your  feet  can 
carry  you,  but  in  such  a  way  as  to  attract  no  attention 
— to  each  of  these  gentlemen,  ask  to  see  him  in  person 
and  give  each — do  you  understand  me?''  , 

"Certainly!"  • 

"One  of  the  flower-pots  or  bouquets,"  saying — "pay 
close  attention." 

"I'm  listening!" 

"Herr  Giinzer  sends  it.  Greeting  and  happiness  in 
the  country!     Do  you  understand?" 

"Zooks!  "  cried  the  gardener's  wife  laughing,  "since 
when  have  you  taken  me    for  a   child?     I'm    to    give 


THE   gardener's    WIFE  461 

each  of  the  fifteen  gentlemen  a  flower-pot,  saying: 
'Herr  Giinzer  sends  it.  Greeting  and  happiness  in 
the  countrv,' " 

"Bravo!"  cried  Giinzer,  clasping  the  woman  in  his 
arms  and  giving  her  a  hearty  kiss,  which  she  quietly 
received. 

"And  now  go,  as  fast  as  your  feet  can  carry  you," 
said  Giinzer,  helping  her  to  raise  the  basket.  "For  a 
week,  Anna,  we  must  not  see  each  other.  At  the  end 
of  that  time,  bring  me  some  flowers,  then  I  shall  want 
very  beautiful  ones,  so  give  me  plenty  of  time  to 
choose,  and — " 

"Farewell,  Herr  Giinzer!"  cried  the  gardener's  wife, 
already  on  her  way  out  of  the  room.      "In  a  week!" 

Giinzer  clasped  his  head  with  both  hands.    Heavens! 
how  his  thoughts  surged  through  his  brains. 
:    As  soon  as  the    fifteen    receive    the    flowers,    each, 
according  to  agreement,  will  send  to  his    friends.      In 
an  hour,  if  Anna  does  not  delay,  we  can  meet    at     the 
appointed    place.      But     the    deuce — the    woman — 3'et 
what  have  I  to  do  with  her,  now,  when  the  moment  of 
victory,  won  by  3'ears    of  "toil,  is    approaching?      For- 
ward quickly,   the  die  is  cast.      General    Montclar  and 
Colonel  von  Alsfeld  are  on    their  way;  at    midnight — 
hurrah,  at  midnight  Strassburg  will    be    mine,   and  I, 
I  will  lay  it  at  the  feet    of    His    Majesty,  Louis  XIV, 
King  of  France. 


-iv,    r_~«.. '  _._  ^_  J:rL_/^!j?&Vw. 


CHAPTER      III. 

HANNIBAL  ANTE  PORTAS. 

It  was  the  evening  of  the  same  day.  The  interior 
of  the  house  occupied  by  Syndicus  Frantz  had  assumed 
a  fest'al  appearance,  especially  in  the  story  in  which 
the  family  lived. 

The  worthy  Syndicus'  room  was  charmingly  decora- 
ted and  was  just  receiving  from  Hedwig  and  Alma  the 
final  touch,  which  consisted  of  a  transparency  sur- 
rounded by  garlands,  which  in  simple  but  earnest 
words  expressed  sincere  gratitude  for  the  recovery  of 
the  beloved  husband  and  father. 

This  was  Hugo's  work;  but  the  rest  of  the  decora- 
tions had  proceeded  from  the  hearts  and  hands  of  the 
mother  and  daughter. 

The  principal  object  with  every  woman — and  this 
was  beautifully  shown  in  H-edwig  and  Alma — should 
be  to  keep  their  feelings  truthful  in  every  incident  of 
life. 

To-day,  for  the  first  time  since  his  sickness,  Syn- 
dicus Frantz  had  attended  the  council  of  magistrates, 
and  Hedwig,  Alma  and  Hugo  were  expecting  his  return. 

"Here,  Hugo,"    said    Alma,    casting  such    a    happy 

radiant  glance  at  her  lover,  that  the  latter    longed    to 

462 


■r^Sj^,i.JA^^tS^t  ?.is:tiJiaMii'^i>ik,  j-^^i»^^>*^^&n^%i^-  ;&eLAS:s^iStK:c^i^^ui^£i45.^.:3^.^^^ul^  ^  ^ 


..^^^:-;^: 


HAVNIBAL  ANTE  PORTAS  463 

embrace  her,  "let  us  fasten  the  last  garland  here.  It 
will  look  well  on  the  high  back  of  the  chair.  Then 
when  father  sits  down  in  it,  it  will  seem  as  if  the  dear 
flowers  were  taking  him  in  their  arms." 

"You  are  right!"  replied  Hugo,  as  he  aided  Alma 
to  carrry  her  idea  into  execution,  "onl}'  I  pity  the 
flowers. " 

"Pity  them?   Why?" 

"On  account  of  the  jealousy  they  will  feel  when  you 
throw  5''our  arms  around  your  father's  neck,  then  the 
fairest  and  sweetest  of  the  flowers  will  embrace  him." 

"Flatterer!"  replied  Alma  with  a  slight  blush,  yet 
giving  him  such  a  frank  affectionate  glance  that  Hugo 
could  no  longer  restrain  himself  and,  bending  over  the 
back  of  the  chair,  impressed  a  tender  kiss  on  her 
cheek. 

With  his  arm  thrown  around  Alma,  Hugo  gazed 
with  satisfaction  at  the  completed  task,  while  Alma, 
leaning  her  head  upon  his  shoulder,  followed  the 
direction  of  his  glance  with  a  happy  smile.  Then  the 
young  man  turned,  and  looking  deep  into  her  eyes, 
sai,d: 

"How  beautifully  this  common  feeling,  thought  and 
labor  unites  us.  How  delightful  it  will  be,  Alma, 
when  we  belong  to  each  other  enti-rel}'  for  life." 

"Yes,  it  will  be  beautiful,  inexpressibly  beautiful," 
she  said  softly,  while  her  cheeks  were  suffused  with 
that  timid  flush  of  girlish  confusion  which  far  surpasses 
levery  other  charryj,  and  seems  to  exert  a  magical  influ- 


464  A    ROVAL   ROBBF.R  f 

ence  not  only  over  ardent  youth,  but  the  grave  man 
in  his  prime,  nay  even  the  graybeard.  "It  will  be 
beautiful,  and  yet  the  thought  of  this  future  often 
makes  me  anxious — "  i 

"Makes  you  anxious?" 

"Because  I  see  no  tokens  that  it  will  ever  become 
the  presev*.  Do  not  the  political  storms  daily  in- 
crease? Where  is  the  prospect  of  the  happy  time  for 
which  father  said  we  must  wait?"  I 

"It  will  come." 

"And  storms  lie  behind  it  also."      " 

"Storms?  Oh  dearest!"  cried  Hugo,  gravely  and 
tenderly  drawing  the  beloved  form  closer  to  his  heart, 
"when  we  are  once  united,  a  loving  married  pair,  let 
the  storms  come.  Then  rely  on  me  and  our  love. 
Remain  frank,  trusting,  happy  and  brave  as  you  are 
now,  and  we  will  conquer  everything  that  assails  us 
from  without;  nay,  the  darker  and  fiercer  grows  the 
tempest,    the  lighter  and    happier  will  be  our  hearts." 

"And  how  easy  and  sweet  the  duty  of  a  good  house- 
keeper. and  wife  will  be  to  me,"  replied  Alma,  her  eyes 
radiant  with  joy.  "How  I  will  always  meet  you,  4ear 
good  brave  heart,  with  gentleness  and  love,  that  our 
life  ma}-  be  like  a  beautiful  melody,  a  long  musical 
accord,  in  which  the  dissonances  of  the  outside  world 
will  vanish."  1  ^ 

-^  The  father  entered  and  was  received  '  with  deligKt, 
Hedwig  saw  at  the  first  glance  with  pleasure  that  the 
attendance  at  the  council  of   magistrates    had    left  no. 


.*,  ■?*■  r  .■"  '5^:?a'"  -"j^ 


'  ^^^e*^s??^'i^^"~-  "^'-^ :  ■ 


f  V  :::  -    -  HANNTBAL   ANTE   PORTAS  465 

cloud  on  her  husband's  brow.      And  she  saw  aright.      ^ 

The  French  minister  had  been  questioned  in  regard 
to  some  disquieting  rumors  about  the  movements  of 
French  troops  in  Alsace  and  especially  the  massing  of 
large  numbers  at  Brusach  and  Freiburg,  but  the  ex- 
planations received  and  laid  before  the  magistrates 
to-day  were  so  perfectly  satisfactory  that  even  the  anti- 
French  party  declared  themselves  entirely  content. 
General  Montclar  merely  intended  to  review  the  army 
and  this  had  been  arranged  to  take  place  not  very  far 
from  the  frontiers  of  Strassburg. 

i  Moreover,  the  spies,  who  had  been  sent  out, 
brought  the  decisive  message  that  the  French  troops 
would  be  instantly  recalled  to  their  respective  garri- 
sons. 

The  French  ambassador's  letter  to  the  council  was 
full  of  the  >warmest  expressions  of  the  peaceful,  friendly 
disposition  of  France. 

Thus  the  Syndicus.  had  returned  home  somewhat 
soothed  and,  as  he  did  not  wish  to  cloud  the  joy  of 
his  family,  his  firm  will  banished  from  his  mind  the 
last  trace  of  anxiety. 

Friends  and  relatives  had  arrived  at  his  house  and 
all  united  around  a  simple,  but  excellent  supper  at 
which  universal  gayety  prevailed. 

Alma  appeared  happier  than   all    the  others.      Hugo 

thought  he  had  never  before  seen  her  in  such  a  joyous 

mood.     Alma's    simple    nature    possessed    a    peculiar 

charm.      The  most    insignificant    event    was    made    as 

30     Robber  ' 


-ii^^I&?£&R^»?fc?Bls^■J:^T^-;l^irJril.,-:4-^V■lL  .  ,^_"..---j:i^-.,-:'-'&!iffleBfl¥^- 


4^6  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  i 

charming  as  a  fairy  tale,  by  the  manner  in  which  she 
related  it. 

This  was  particularly  the  case  this  evening.  Her 
happy  mood  lent  a  new  charm  to  all  her  good  qualities, 
her  bright,  quick  intellect  and  clear  mind. 

Hugo  often  looked  at  her  in  astonishment,  he  per- 
ceived so  many  new  and  beautiful  traits  of  character 
to-day,  though  he  had  known  her  so  long. 

The  gay  mood  of  the  compan}-  remained  unaltered 
and  unshadowed  all  the  evening  and  until  far  into 
the  night. 

All  present  were  sincerely  happy  and  when,  towards 
twelve  o'clock,  the  friends  and  acquaintances — out  of 
consideration  for  the  invalid — wished  to  take  leave,  he 
himself  begged  them  to  stay. 

They  did  so  gladly.  Hedwig  brought  out  some 
bottles  of  fine  old  sack,  and  thus,  amid  jest  and 
laughter,  the  mirth  and  pleasure  reached  a  point  it 
had  long  lacked. 

As  the  glass  clinked  merrily  and  the  worthy  people 
assembled  in  the  room  gayly  shook  hands,  the  clock 
in  the  neighboring  cathedral  struck  the  hour  of  twelve. 
»      "Midnight!"  exclaimed  several,  "it  is  time — '* 

Then  suddenly  all  were  silent. 

"What  was  that?"  asked  the  Syndicus. 

"It  seems  to  me  as  if  I  heard  the  sound  of  distant 
firing,"  replied  Hugo,  opening  the  window.  j 

"Perhaps  a  fire  has  broken  out  in  the  city,"  ex- 
claimed Alma  In  alarm>  "How  I  pity  the  poorpeople 
it  will  ruin,"  i 


'■-"-■;-"rr!liWi»isi5fiSk&s.  -...,;-..-   i-^'.--i.'^^-  nf^.-.'-..    -i-  i^,..'    ■.:,.>->...:  ■  •.'r-\i-^vj.-'^w:,' i::a:i:--j^.,-^i^>.-^:iK.'  ■i:iiSiri::stx;St:j*'^'-£^iri«-:.. 


HA^TNIBAt  ANTE  PORTAS  467 

All  ran  for  their  wraps. 

"But  what?" 

"Don't  you  hear  anything?"  said  the  Syndicus,  who 
had  suddenly  grown  deadly  pale  as    if    some    terrible 
thought  had  darted  through  his   mind,    "another    gun, 
another,  heavy  firing — " 
!  "What  is  it?"  all  exclaimed, 

"For  God's  sake,  what  does  it  mean?" 

"What  does  it  mean?"  cried  the  Syndicus,  drawing 
his  tall  figure  up  to  its  full  height,  while  his  eyes 
flashed  like  those  of  an  angry  lion,  "what  does  it 
mean?"  he  repeated,  in  a  trembling  voice,  and  while 
the  glass  he  held  in  his  hand  fell  shattered  on  the 
floor,  added  with  an  exclamation  of  pain  "it  means 
treachery!" 

"Treachery?"  repeated  the  whole  party,  turning 
pale. 

"Yes,  yes,  treachery,"  cried  the  Syndicus  again,  "this 
is  the  cause  of  the  most  exaggerated  assurances  of  the 
friendship  of  France  at  the  meeting  of  magistrates  to- 
day. That  is  why — oh!  God,  it  is  Montclar,  return- 
ing from  the  review  of  his  army." 

Suddenl}'  the  bells  in  the  churches  and  towers  along 
the  wall  began  to  peal  loudly,  then  came  one,  two, 
three  heav}?'  reports. 

"The  alarm  cannon  on  the  walls!"  cried  all,  run- 
ning for  caps  and  canes,  shawls  and  overcoats. 

Hugo  now  returned  panting  for  breath;  as  he  could 
discover   nothing   from   the    window,  he    had    rushed 


/-«r::E- 


L 


468 


A    ROTAT,    ROBBER 


down  into  the  street.  But  there  also  nobody  knevi 
what  this  nocturnal  firing  meant. 

"Only  this  much  is  certain!"  cried  Hugo,  no  less 
pale  than  the  Syndicus,  "that  the  firing  is  at  or  near 
the  Rhine  redoubt." 

"And  what  do  you  think  of  it,  my  boy?"  asked  the 
Syndicus. 

"May  God  withdraw  the  sun  from  this  court  of 
France,"  Hugo  burst  forth,  grinding  his  teeth,  "for 
all  signs  must  deceive  if  this  is  not  a  shameless  breach 
of  peace,  a  fierce  attack,  after  the  most  solemn  assur- 
ances of  good  will,  under  cover  of  night  and  darkness." 

"That  is  so!"  cried  the  Syndicus,  "my  coat,  my 
official  cap!" 

"What  are  you  going  to  do,  father?"  exclaimed 
mother  and  daughter  in  one  breath. 

"My  duty  as  usual.      I'll  go  and — " 

"But  consider,  you  have  just  been  so  ill,"  pleaded 
Hedwig  and  Alma. 

"The  times  are  sicker  than  I,  they  are  suffering 
from  rascality!"  cried  the  old  man,  pushing  them 
away,  "my  coat,  my  cap!" 

Hedwig  and  Alma  pleaded,  the  firing  still  echoed 
in  the  distance — the  alarm  bells  pealed  loudly,  the 
reports  of  the  cannon  sounded  in  the  intervals,  the 
signal  horns  also  echoed  on  the  night  air,  summoning 
the  citizens  and  members  of  the  guilds.  '         ^ 

The  Syndicus  was  ready  to  hurry  off,  Hugo  also  stood 
prepared,  the  guests  had  already  hastened  to  their  homes. 


jWfJ^IP^- 


/-,''''„'^'  "  HANNIBAL  ANTE   PORTAS  469 

"Now,  let  us  go!"  cried  the  Syndicus,  with  an  energy 
that  would  have  done  honor  to  a  younger  man,  "let  us 
go  and  may  God  protect  you  and  our  good  city." 

But  at  the  same  moment,  the  door  flew  wide  open 
and  Wenck — armed  to  the  teeth — rushed  in,  his  cafe 
crimson  with  fury;  his  eyes  were  almost  starting  from 
their  sockets,  the  veins  on  his  forehead  were  swollen, 
his  head — as  usual  in  moments  of  excitement — seemed 
sunk  still  lower  between  his  shoulders. 

"Heaven  and  Hell!"  he  cried,  forgetting  all  consid- 
eration in  his  indescribable  rage,  "this  is  a  fine  busi- 
ness. There  are  the  consequences  when  traitors  sit  in 
"  the  council  of  magistrates  and  direct  the  affairs  of 
government.  It  would  have  been  better  to  demolish 
all  the  fortifications,  as  they  did  the  one  on  the  Rhine, 
while  the  Syndicus  was  ill.     Now  we  have  it." 

"What?  " 

"What  "has  happened?" 

"The  fortification  on  the  Rhine?     Didn't  I  say  so?" 

"What  about  it?"  cried  all  in  a  breath. 

"What  about  it,  Herr  Syndicus?"  cried  the  little 
tailor,  stretching  out  both  clenched  fists,  "it  has  gone 
to  the  devil.  The  French  have  attacked  and  captured 
it!" 

All  trembled  as  if  they  had  been  stabbed  to  the  heart. 

"The  French?  Captured?  In  the  night?  In  the 
midst  of  peace?"  cried  Hedwig. 

"Oh!  why  were  we  such  simpletons  as  to  believe 
their  assurances!"  exclaimed  Wenck. 


470  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  "  i     ^  ■    . 

"And  are  you  sure,  Wenck,"  the  Syndlcus  now 
asked  hastily,  "that  the  fortifications  on  the  Rhine 
have  been  attacked  and  catpured  by  the  French?" 

"Unfortunately !      Unfortunatel}'!" 

"Then  to  our  posts,"  cried  the  old  man,  "now  is  the 
time  to  act." 

And  with  these  words  the  Syndicus,  Hugo  von  Zed- 
litz  and  Wenck  hurried  away. 

But  what  indescribable  confusion  and  excitement 
prevailed  in  the  city! 

Everyone  was  rushing  to  and  fro    in    the    darkness. 

Nobody  knew  exactly  what  had  happened. 

"The  French!" 

"The  French  are  here! 

"The  Rhine  fortification  is  captured!" 

"The  whole  city  is  surrounded!" 

"Up  citizens,  the  enemy!   the  enemyl " 

"To  the  walls!" 

"To  arms!" 

"Down  with  the  traitors!" 

"Down  with  Frischman,  the  hypocrite,  the  liar,  the 
French  hound!" 

"Down  with  the  traitors  in  the  council!" 

"Mount  the  cannon  on  the  walls!" 

"Up,  citizens,  up,  up!" 

"Death  and  damnation  to  the  traitors!" 

Such  were  the  shrieks  and  shouts  that  echoed  through 
the  night — and  still  the  firing  continued,^  the  bells 
rang    from    the  steeples,  cannon  thundered   from    the 


■{'■,  !■  'ikSk-'JMi.££r.'.  ■-■-ii^i^'i",,-  ■i-^-ifei'-i 


HANNIBAL  ANTE  PORTAS  47I 

walls,  and  the  signal  horns  sounded  In  the  streets. 
•  All  were  running  to  and  fro,  the  magistrates  to  the 
•Rathhaus,  the  citizens  armed  and  unarmed,  to  the 
guild-rooms  and  walls,  the  few  soldiers  capable  of 
duty  to  the  gates  to  increase  the  number  of  defenders, 
women  with  dishevelled  hair,  only  half  dressed  in 
their  haste,  rushing  to  the  corners  of  the /Streets,  tc 
hear  and  see  what  was  going  on. 

And  to  add  to  the  confusion,  darkness  brooded  over 
the  city,  only  interrupted  here  and  there  by  the  flar- 
ing of  lights. 

But  thg/^worst  feature  of  all  was  the  universal  lack 
of  order  and  management. 

A  large  number  of  the  magistrates  had  lost  their 
wits.  Commander  von  Jenneggen  was  not  to  be  found, 
the  soldiers,  half  of  whom  were  sick,  had  only  one 
officer  capable  of  service,  some  of  the  officers  and 
principal  men  of  the  armed  citizens  and  guilds  were 
absent  from  the  places  of  meeting  or  did  not  know 
what  was  to  be  done,  and  quarreled  because  one 
wanted  this,  the  other  that. 

Who  was  to  command? 

How  and  by  whom  were  the  long  lines  of  walls  and 
numerous  fortifications  of  the  city  to  be  garrisoned? 
This  was  not  possible,  even  If  all  the  soldiers  and 
citizens  could  have  been  assembled  and — a  large  num- 
ber of  the  latter  had  gone  to  the  Frankfort  fair. 

The  key  of  the  arsenal  was  loudly  demanded,  that 
guns  might  be  mounted  on  the  walls. 


'~-x  ^i-  -f****.' '".  ^  ■'    y:=sr#^«af^¥»5w^^^E^vpi^ir 


472  A    ROYAL    ROBBER 

Was  it  in  Jenneggen's  possession  or  the  principal 
magistrate's?     Nobody  knew.  .  . 

And  the  magistrate  himself?  Part  of  the  citizens 
wanted  him  to  give  counsel,  help,  explanations,  orders 
— others  raged  against  him,  charged  him  with  being 
the  sole  cause  of  the  trouble,  or  shrieked  that  he  had 
betrayed  the  city. 

Crowds  rushed  toward  the  Rathhaus,  shrieking, 
raging,  swearing. 

And  in  fact,  the  state  of  affairs  among  the  magis- 
trates was  not  much  better.  Here  also  confusion, 
disorder,  irresolution  and  the  darkest  passions  pre- 
vailed. Only  a  small  number  of  the  magistrates  re- 
tained their  presence  of  mind,  at  their  head  were  Syn- 
dicus  Frantz  and  Dominique  Dietrich. 

Gunzer  had  rushed  to  Frischmann  to  demand  an 
explanation  of  this  attack  from  the  French  ambassa- 
dors in  the  name  of  the  Senate.  He  now  returned 
with  the  statement  that  Frischmann  protested  by  all 
that  was  sacred,  that  he  knew  as  little  about  the 
matter  as  the  worshipful  senate  itself. 

And  he  told  no  falsehood,  Monseigneur  Louvois  had 
not  considered  it  necessary  to  inform  the  ambassador, 
or  he  had  only  received  directions,  in  case  any  in- 
quiries were  made  about  the  assembling  and  move- 
ments of  troops,  to  give  the  magistrates  of  Strassburg 
the  warmest  and  most  soothing  assurances  of  friend- 
ship. 

He  did  so  and  meantime — the  four  couriers  Louvois 


; 'A.-^y* !£<'*:^ v*&_    ^1  ij'i>«„r.si'^;^ 


HANNIBAL  ANTE  PORTAS  473 

had  despatched  after  Chamilli's  return  from  Basle, 
had  also  done  their  duty:  the  order  for  the  capture  of 
Strassburg  had  been  given. 

General  Montclar,  who  commanded  the  troops  in 
Alsace  instantly  assembled — under  the  pretext  of 
reviewing  his  army — thirty  or  thirty-five  thousand 
men.  The  review  was  really  held,  only  Colonel  von 
Alsfeld  instantly  set  out  with  a  large  division,  and 
strangely  enough  moved  in  the  direction  of  Strassburg, 
noiselessly  occupying  that  very  evening  some  woods 
in  the  immediate  vicinity,  where  stores  had  already 
been  placed. 

No  one  had  the  least  suspicion  of  it,  but  at  mid- 
night Alsfeld  emerged  from  his  concealment  and 
rushed  with  all  his  troops  on  the  Rhine  fortification, 
which  by  Louvois'  desire  and  advice  was  feebly  gar- 
risoned and  half  demolished.  Of  course,  after  a  short 
struggle,  it  fell  into  his  hands. 

The  post  was  taken  and  all  the  garrison,  who  did 
not  succeed  in  flying  to  the  city,  were  prisoners. 

Such  was  the  state  of  affairs  noAV. 

But  was  this  all?  Must  not  attacks  from  other 
quarters  be  hourly  expected,  perhaps  a  general  assault 
upon  the  city?  And  was  it  possible  that  such  a  crying 
injustice,  such  an  unexampled  act  of  villainy  could 
proceed  from  the  French  government?  Or,  was  the 
whole  matter  a  misunderstanding,  an  undue  exercise 
of  military  authority  on  the  part  of  Colonel  von  Alsfeld 
for  General  Montclar? 


iiiT^r-'jiU:<--^^?'-".:^^wrr^^-  - 


1 


•  f 

474  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  »  j 

""'■■■'  ,  ■  i  - 

This  must  first  be  ascertained.  i 

But  now,  after  the  first  panic    and  cry   of   Hannibal 
ante  portas,  the  most  able  citizens  took  the  lead.    , 

The  alarm  bells  still  pealed,  the  trumpets  still 
sounded,  shouts  echoed  on  the  air  and  crowds  rushed 
to  and  fro,  but  Wenck,  Hugo  von  Zedlitz  and  other 
brave  men  had  already,  though  with  great  difficulty, 
brought  order  out  of  the  confusion  in  the  armed  guilds. 

Citizens  and  militia  hurried  to  the  walls  to  be  pre- 
pared for  battle  in  case  of  further  attacks. 

The  resolute  and  patriotic  party  among  the  magis- 
trates had  also  speedily  conquered  and  restored  order. 

More  than  sixty  citizens,  with  their  servants, 
guarded  the  Rathhaus — Frischmann,  whom  the  crowd 
in  their  rage,  threatened  to  murder,  received  similar 
protection,  the  senate  remained  in  permanent  session, 
and  cannon  were  brought  to  the  walls  from  every  direc- 
tion. At  the  same  time  messengers  were  sent  to 
Colonel  von  Alsfeld  and  repeatedly  despatched  to 
Frischmann,  to  learn  the  meaning  of  such  an  insolent 
assault,  such  an  unexpected  violation  of  the  peace, 
how  it  happened  that,  after  all  the  assurances  of  the 
king  and  the  heavy  security  given  by  the  city  for  its 
neutrality,  the  peace  had  been   so   shamefully  broken. 

Couriers,  bearing  despatches  containing  urgent 
appeals  for  aid,  were  instantly  sent  to  the  emperor  and 
Reichstag  at  Regensburg. 

Meantime  the  citizens  waited  in  unutterable  anxiety 
and  excitement. 


HANNIBAL  ANTE   PORTAS  475 

Frischmann  renewed  his  assurances  of  being  in  no 
way  connected  with  what  had  occurred.  But  Colonel 
von  Alsfeld — after  the  manner  of  Louvois,  perhaps 
even  by  his  direction — added  mockery  to  his  disgrace- 
ful act  of  violence.  "General  Montclar,"  he  replied  in 
smooth  words,  "had  thought  it  well  to  pursue  this 
course,  because  he  had  learned  that  imperial  troops 
were  to  occupy  the  pass.  The  city  was  thus  rendered 
a  positive  service." 

A  second  messenger  returned  without  having  effected 
anything,  but  bearing  a  message  that  fell  upon  the 
patriots  like  a  thunderbolt. 

Colonel  von  Alsfeld  had  been  shown  that  there 
were  no  imperial  troops  within  fifty  miles  and  the 
feeble  garrison  of  Phillippsburg  could  not  venture 
upon  such  an  undertaking.  In  reply,  the  colonel 
laughed  and  excused  his  conduct  on  the,  pretext  of  an 
order  received  from  General  Montclar,  which  he  had  too 
.blindly  obeyed.  However — and  this  was  the  thunder- 
bolt— the  most  worthy  magistrates  need  only  to  wait 
until  morning,  when  General  Montclar  would  arrive 
in  person  and  could  give  more    explicit    information. 

"JIanni7>a/  anU  J>orif as/"  cried  Syndicus  Frrantz,  turn- 
ing deadly  pale,  while  his  gloomy  eyes  rested  upon 
Giinzer.  "Hannibal  ante  portas!  Will  the  traitors 
among  us  open  the  gates  to  him?"  • 

A  terrible  storm  arose,  when  suddenly  news  arrived 
that  Louvois  was  in  Breisach,  the  king  on  the  way  to 
vStrassburg.  «  f 


i-svf-;?-  »9»'*:,T>"f^c's^'  '^^FS'T'^'v^s'^^'xS^     «'^'-^*^'"^^^ 


476  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  ! 

All  were  silent — they  sat  pale  and  rigid  as  marble 
statues,  but  in  the  eyes  of  Syndicus  Frantz  glittered  a 
tear — it  fell  upon  the  corpse  of  the  ancient  republic 
of  Strassburg.  I 


r 


A 


■  ifj..    ".'rta^.^^'«^VS^.l.';t.J«r^'a^b^-»i  y^'"ii*ii<-V  - 


a(^-r;srrrx?»*^-'v 


CHAPTER  IV. 


A    SAD    DAY. 


The  night  through  which  Strassburg  had  just  passed 
had  been  a  terrible  one — terrible  especiall)'  in  con- 
sequence of  the  excitement  of  the  entire  population. 
Thousands  stood  in  the  darkness  on  the  walls,  listen- 
ing anxiously,  expecting  every  moment  that  some  new 
attack  would  take  place. 

Morning  came  and  with  it  amarmy  of  thirty  thousand 
men,  commanded  by  General  Montclar,  appeared  before 
the  city.  - 

•  The  magistrates,  as  was  natural,  had  remained  in 
council.  The  terrible  situation  of  the  city  had  alla5'ed 
the  storm.  Gunzer  and  his  party  beh*aved  as  if  they 
were  frantic  with  indignation  at  the  unwarrantable 
conduct  of  France;  Syndicus  Frantz  and  the  patriots 
sat  with  gloomy  brows,  determined  to  take  the  utmost 
risks.  They  could  still  rely  upon  the  majority  of  the 
citizens  and  guilds.  If  the  city  only  held  out  bravely 
till  help  came  from  Phillippsburg  or  elsewhere. 
Strassburg  had  never  yet  been  captured,  Strassburg 
had  withstood  Charles  the  Bold,  Heinrich  II,  the 
numerous  army  of  France  and  Sweden  during  the 
Thirty  Years  War  and  thus  saved  freedom   and    inde- 

477    ■.: 


JSSP-  n.  f^W'*s:T^WT^  ('^""'V'^SSBSTO^l 


478  A    ROYAL   ROBBER 

pendence,  why  should  she  not  conquer  now?  Though 
assailed  by  a  powerful  army — was  it  to  be  supposed 
that  Louis  XIV  would  carry  his  arbitrary  will  so  far 
as  to  commit  open  robbery  upon  the  German  empire, 
venture  to  brsak  the  peace  by  armed  force,  trampled 
every  right  under  foot  and  perhaps  rouse  all  Europe 
to  war? 

Ammeister  Dominique  Dietrich  and  Syndicus  Frant2 
now  took  matters  in  hand  and  strangely  enough  this 
time  Giinzer  joined  them. 

The  first  consideration  was  to  arm  men  enough  to 
keep  communication  with  the  outside  country  open 
and  enable  the  inhabitants  to  enter  the  city. 

For  this  purpose  several  thousand  men  capable  of 
bearing  arms  had  already  been  secured. 

To  the  surprise  of  the  Syndicus — who  since  Gunzer's 
rascally  trick  against  the  von  Zorn  family  had  despised 
as  well  as  hated  him — the  latter  joined  in  this  move- 
ment also  and  with  such  apparent  zeal  as  to  perplex 
many. 

For  greater  security  a  second  courier  had  been  de- 
spatched to  the  Emperor  and  Reichstag. 

Moreover  the  last  cannon  in  the  arsenal  had  been 
distributed  to  the  citizens  to  mount  on  the  walls  of 
the  city,  and  the  guns  there  were  also  given  to  arm 
those  who  might  hasten  to  her  relief.  ' 

With  the  first  dawn  of  morning.  Colonel  von  Alsfeld 
had  advanced  towards  the  city  from  the  Rhine. 
Fifteen    minutes    loiter   came    the    news    that    bodies 


A   SAD   DAV  479 

of  troops    were    approaching    from    other    directions. 

Soon  the  western  side  was  also  enclosed  and  by 
noon,  the  whole  city. 

Gunzer  secretly  exulted;  he  had  known  all  this 
before.  The  fatal  words  "too  late"  now  characterized 
the  measures  of  the  magistrates,  which  he  approved. 
Before  the  peasants,  summoned  from  the  neighboring 
country,  could  come  to  the  city's  aid,  every  avenue 
of  approach  would  be  closed  by  French  troops  and  all 
communication  cut  off.  But  the  worst  feature  was 
that  Strassburg  was  so  closely  invested  that  all  the 
couriers  to  the  emperor  and  Reichstag,  though  they 
had  used  various  disguises,  would  be  taken  and  their 
despatches  delivered  to  Montclar. 

To  be  sure  none  of  this  was  known  within  the  city. 
Gunzer  had  shuffled  the  cards  in  such  a  way  that  the 
game  could  not  be  lost. 

The  Senate  now  attempted  to  obtain  farther  explan- 
ation from  Montclar  by  means  of  a  letter.  The  reply 
was  awaited  wjth  mortal  anxiety.  At  last  it  came: 
the  French  gl^eral  flatly  refused  the  magistrates'  re- 
quest, but  according  to  a  royal  command,  asked  to  treat 
with  the  council  by  means  of  deputies. 

Haughty — in  a  half  imperious,  half  mocking  tone — 
the  general  explained  to  the  deputies  that  the  city  had 
been  ceded  to  the  king  by  the  treaty  of  Westphalia, 
and  his  right  was  confirmed  by  that  of  Nymwegen. 
Although  His  Majesty,  Louis  XIV,  had  not  hitherto 
considered  it  advisable    to    assert  his    claim,    it    now 


■  J^^~-i'  .X-  ■■    ''■■■- 


480  '  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  j 

suited  his  interests  to  do  so,  as  he  had  received  the 
unexpected  news  that  a  considerable  body  of  imperial 
troops  had  been  transferred  to  the  city  and  passes  of 
the  Rhine. 

Montclar,  with  the  air  of  a  patron,  added  that  he 
had  desired  to  inform  the  city — to  which  he  had 
aways  been  friendly — of  the  condition  of  affairs  in 
time,  that  it  might  not  by  reckless  obstinacy  plunge 
into  misfortune  and  ruin.  The  Minister  of  War, 
Monseigneur  Louvois,  would  arrive  on  the  following 
day  and  it  would  then  depend  upon  the  citizens  them- 
selves whether  by  submission  they  retained  their  rights 
and  form  of  government,  or  by  resistance  exposed  them- 
selves to  the  peril  of  being  treated  as  enemies  and 
rebels! 

At  these  words  the  older  men  among  the  deputies 
were  seized  with  indignation,  especially  Syndicus 
Frantz,  who  stood  at  their  head. 

With  his  figure  drawn  up  to  its  full  height,  stead- 
fast and  grave— as  beseemed  a  German — he  answered 
the  French  general  v,rith  great  dignity  that  they 
appealed  tp  the  long  maintained  independence  of  their 
little  free  state,  whose  existence,  by  the  law  of  nations, 
was  as  unassailable  as  that  of  any  other  recognized 
government;  that  they  also  appealed  to  the  words  of 
the  Westphalian  treaty  of  peace,  which  established  its 
permanence,  that  the  city  upto  the  time  of  the  treaty  of 
Nymwegen  had  always  dealt  with  France  as  a  sove- 
reign power,  and  even  at  the  present  time  France  had 


A    SAB    DAV  ..  481 

an  accredited  ambassador  to  her,  and  finally,  it  was 
not  becoming  in  France  to  give  the  treaty  a  one-sided 
interpretation. 

General  Montclar,  who  certainly  had  nor  expected 
such  a  grave,  dignified  and  resolute  bearing  on  the 
part  of  the  deputies,  listened  to  the  Syndicus  in 
surprise,  with  an  air  of  gloomy  pride. 

Montclar  scarcely  suppressed  his  anger,  onl}'  the 
mask  of  cold  scorn  and  military  brutality  enabled  him 
to  conceal  it.  Arrayed  with  this  he  now  curtly  declared, 
that  he  had  nothing  to  do  with  any  treaties,  his  duty 
was  merely  to  execute  the  commands  imposed  upon 
him.  The  council  had  to  consider  the  answer  it  was 
to  give  the  minister  the  next  morning,  but  he  could 
tell  the  minister's  reply  in  advance:  it  would  be  sub- 
mission or  utter  destruction  of  the  city. 

With  these  words,  he  proudly  turned  his  back  upon 
the  deputies. 

The  return  of  the  deputies  was  awaited  by  the  citi- 
zens with  the  utmost  anxiety.  Crowds  thronged 
around  the  gates  of  the  city.  Everywhere  only  pale, 
troubled,  careworn  faces  were  seen.  When  the  deputies 
—  themselves  gloomy  and  depressed — returned,  every 
one  beset  them  with  questions,  all  wished  to  know  the 
fate  that  threatened  the  beloved  city.  But  the  majority 
of  the  magistrates,  who  were  themselves  extremely 
perplexed  by  the  condition  of  affairs,  now  lost  their 
presence  of  mind.  All  classes  of  the  population  were 
instantly     informed    of   Montclar* s     answer;     public 

?/     Robber  .. 


...sSTs-^  '.L.  ^  jfitK^''^&£..sL%j   ^..'o.w.^  .•ilti.tr  .•:s,.^Ar^.^>ii«^^»^rjfiu^.,...a^di!u;:c^ 


482  A    ROYAL   ROBBER  "/:-':  j  '"'-?*?'' 

praj'ers  were  ordered,  the  whole  great  council  with  Its 
three  hundred  judges  was  summoned  and  Commander 
von  Jenneggen  received  orders  to  prepare  to  make  the 
best  possible  resistance. 

Jenneggen  instantly  appeared  before  the  magistrates, 
but  his  report  was  also  extremely  discouraging. 

"He  was  ready  to  do  his  duty  and  obey  the  com- 
mands of  the  most  puissant  and  worthy  council,"  he 
said,  "only  the  possibility  of  a  real  effective  defense 
was  very  remote,  nay  utterly  unimaginable.  It  need 
only  be  considered  that  Strassburg  had  fourteen  irreg- 
ular bastions,  which  must  all  be  defended,  while  he 
was  not  in  condition  to  garrison  one,  since  of  the  five 
hundred  soldiers  under  his  command  only  one-half 
were  fit  for  duty  and  but  one  officer  was  capable  of 
service. 

The  despondency  of  the  magistrates  had  now  reached 
the  point  for  which  Giinzer  had  been  waiting  with 
secret  impatience.  When  therefore  Syndicus  Frantz 
rose,  and  with  ardent  zeal,  with  the  power  and  strength 
of  an  eloquence  that  springs  from  the  depth  of  the 
soul,  implored  the  fathers  of  the  city  not  to  lose  courage 
now;  when  he  pointed  to  the  strength  which  the  pop- 
ulation of  a  city  like  Strassburg  can  always  develope 
when  animated  by  a  bold,  manly,  patriotic  spirit,  when 
he  advised  that  men,  youths,  children  and  gray-beards 
should  be  summoned  to  arms,  when  he  called  attention 
to  the  fact  that  aid  might  yet  come  from  without,  and 
the  walls  of  Strassburg    were    supplied    with    a    large 


-^y'-  ;s^^ 


'>^f  ■     v''^"-ln-Y'ii*k-'  iir"l'SlT 


1-  '.  A    SAD   DAY  483 

number  of  the  best  cannon,  to  serve  which — in  case 
of  necessity — there  would  be  no  insurmountable  im- 
pediment then,  then  Giinzer  suddenly  stepped  for- 
ward, played  the  anxious  patriot,  sorel}'  concerned 
about  the  destin}'  of  beloved,  beautiful  Strassburg, 
and  in  his  turn,  with  fervid  eloquence  entreated  all 
present,  for  Heaven's  sake,  not  to  enter  into  these 
well-meant  but  fool-hardy  ideas  of  Syndicus  Frantz. 

"Oh!  men  of  the  city,  do  not  allov/  3  ourselves  to  be 
blinded!"  he  exclaimed  as  if  overv/helmed  with  grief, 
and  tears  filled  his  eyes.  "You  have  just  heard  how 
weak  we  unhappily  are  and  —before  our  walls  stands 
an  army  of  forty  thousand  men  accustomed  to  victory! 
One  shot  from  our  walls  and  the  signal  Vv'ill  be  .given 
.—General  Montclar  will  order  his  troops  to  storm  the 
city!  Then  woe  to  us  and  Strassburg.  Then  our  be- 
loved cit}'-  will  be  given  to  the  flames — your  houses  will 
fall  in  ashes,  pillage  will  rob  every  man  of  his  last 
grain  of  corn,  your  wives  and  daughters  will  be  ruined 
and  streams  of  blood  —hear  me,  fathers  of  the  cit}' — 
streams  of  the  blood  of  our  citizens  will  cry  to  Heaven 
for  vengeance  on  those  who  misled  you  and  the  people. 

"I  vote  for  a  sensible  negotiation  with  the  crown  of 
France,  and  above  all  that  the  mad  crowds  of  citizens, 
who  now  have  possession  of  the  walls  and  guns  of  the 
city,  be  refused  ammunition  of  every  description  on 
any  grounds  you  may  think  proper. " 

"Yes,  yes,  yes!"  was  shouted  on  every  side. 

What  did  it  avail  that  Frantz  and  a   few   others    of 


:r*s- j-jfSi^  ws-;^- 


484 


A    ROYAL   ROBBEft 


liis  Stamp  battled  with  all  their  strength,  enthusiasm, 
and  logic  against  "the  phantoms  of  terror  and  self- 
created  images  of  horror? 

Their  voices  were  drowned  and  they  were  finally 
outvoted  by  an  immense  majority.  Ammeister  Domi- 
nique Deitrich  and  all  the  discreet  ones  were  on 
Giinzer's  side. 

The  proposal  to  negotiate  with  Monseigneur  Louvois 
and  withhold  all  ammunition  from  the  citizens,  that 
no  incautious,  hare-brained  man  should  bring  misfor- 
tune, was  carried. 

Syndicus  Frantz  and  the  few  who  shared  his  views 
protested  against  this  resolution  in  voices  trembling 
with  grief  and  agitation. 

Giinzer  bit  his  lips  till  they  bled. 

"Now  the  simpletons  are  caught  in  the  snare!"  he 
whispered  to  Hecker,  one  of  the  purchased  magis- 
trates, who  sat  beside  him. 

"Thank  God!"  the  latter  murmured;  but  at  the  same 
time  turning  deadly  pale — Syndicus  Frantz  was  appeal- 
ing to  the  great  council. 

At  last  the  conflict  resulted  in  the  support  of  the 
resolution  just  formed,  by  the  determination  to  com- 
mit the  final  decision — in  regard  to  the  negotiations 
with  Louvois — to  the  great  council  of  the  three  hun- 
dred as  the  representatives  of  the  whole  body  of 
citizens,  as  was  natural  in  so  important  a  case. 


.  ■■:9iiaii.-.v!--jSlii  i.^-i."  ■ : 


sfiS'K^iZl'.jiiX:.  - 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  CAPITULATION. 

The  night  of  the  28th  and  29th  of  September  of  the 
year  1681 — one  of  the  most  terrible  to  Strassburg — ■ 
was  passed  in  anxiety,  terror,  and  tribulation,  but 
quietly. 

Neither  the  magistrates  nor  the  citizens  had  left 
their  posts,  since  no  one  knew  whether  General  Mont- 
clar  might  not  make  another  treacherous  attack  upon 
the  city.  But  everything  remained  quiet,  and  morn- 
ing slowly  dawned  conveying  fresh  cares  to  men 
already  exhausted  by  the  night  of  watching. 

The  thought  of  this  decision  weighed  heavily  upon 
all  minds;  there  were  but  two  possibilities  in  it: 
either  subjection  to  the  crown  of  France  and  with  it 
the  total  resignation  of  the  beloved  ancient  independ- 
ence and  freedom,  the  sacrifice  of  the  republican  form 
of  government  which,  by  history,  birth  and  habit,  had 
been  interwoven  with  their  very  natures,  separation 
from  tfie  beloved  native  land,  or  a  terrible,  almost 
hopeless  struggle,  which  might  end  in  the  total  de- 
struction of  the  city,  its  transformation  into  dust  and 
ashes,  the  sacrifice  of  property  and  life.      To    be    sure 

it  was  possible — at   least  this  was  the  hope  cherished 

485 


4: 


486  A   ROYAL   ROBBER  |         _: 

by  the  braver  portions  of  the  citizens — that  the  couriers 
sent  out — they  had  been  despatched  to  the  neighbor- 
ing fortress  of  Philippsburg  and  the  nearest  German 
princes,  as  well  as  the  Congress  at  Frankfort — would 
soon  return  with  help:  but  this  hope  was  as  faint  as 
the  one  that  Louvois  and  Louis  XIV  would  shrink 
from  a  deed  of  actual  violence. 

The  terrible  examples,  which  had  occurred  in  the 
Netherlands  and  Palatinate,  were  still  too  fresh  In  the 
hearts  of  all  for  them  to  believe  in  any  human  feeling, 
the  slightest  respect  for  international  law  on  the  part 
of  the  ruler  of  France  and  his  ministers  and  generals. 

Moreover,  the  majority  of  the  citizens  preserved  true 
loyalty  to  Germany,  saw  In  the  French  only  enemies 
of  their  native  land  and  oppressors  of  freedom,  and 
were  ready,  under  all  circumstancdi4_to  make  any  sacri- 
fice for  the  preservation  of  their  independence.  Should 
the  citizens  of  Strassburg,  who  looked  back  with 
pride  to  the  republican  freedom  and  independence  pre- 
served for  four  hundred  years,  in  whom  this  pride  had 
become  a  portion  of  their  flesh  and  blood,  so  lightly 
resign  their  precious  privileges? 

The  robbers  had  now  come  like  the  thief  in  the 
night,  and^ — the  traitors  shamefully  bound  the  hands 
of  the  imperilled  party  by  giving,  as  If  in  mockery, 
the  brave  citizens  cannon  which  they  rendered  useless 
by  refusing  ammunition. 

Wenck  and  Hugo  von  Zedlitz,  as  well  as  a  large 
portion  of  the  guilds — were  enraged   by    this    conduct 


'rff^^^?^  " V  :5;^323w"^\;i;^s^;  .•.^.■.;--5"; " 


;.  -      ■  '■  THE   CAPJTTJLATION-    "'•     g,     -     ^      487 

on  the  part  of  the  magistrates.  All  demanded  to 
have  the  arsenals  broken  open.  But  in  the  consulta- 
tion which  had  taken  place  during  the  night  upon  the 
walls  among  themselves,  Hugo  von  Zedlitz  had  op- 
posed this  act  of  self-help  for  the  momdHt;  a  deputa- 
tion, with  Wenck  at  its  head,  had  been  sent  to  the 
magistrates  to  urge  with  the  greatest  energy  the  dis- 
tribution of  the  necessary  ammunition. 

The  deputies  had  been  at  the  Rathhaus  since  four 
in  the  morning — hours  had  passed,  and  the  citizens 
still  waited  vainl)^  for  their  return. 

Meantime,  the  guilds  stationed  on  the  walls  had 
given  the  chief  command  to  Hugo  von  Zedlitz. 

The  most  important  matter  for  Hugo  was  to  obtain 
a  survey  of  the  situation  of  affairs  and  ascertain  what 
stations  the  enemy  had  occupied  near  the  city.  It 
was  also  necessary  to  know  whether  any  help  was 
approaching  from  the  distance. 

For  this  purpose,  while  awaiting  the  return  of  the 
deputation,.  Hugo  went  up  to  the  top  of  the  cathedral. 

In  spite  of  his  youth  and  strength,  the  ascent  was 
to-day  a  difficult  one.  He  had  neither  slept  nor  eaten 
a  mouthful  of  food  for  two  days  and  nights. 

The  first  rays  of  the  rising  sun  were  just  illuminat- 
ing the  steeples  as  Hugo  reached  the  top  of  the  cathe- 
dral. 

How  beautiful,  how  like  Paradise  was  the  fair 
country  outspread  before  him. 

Wherever  he  looked  he  beheld  long  lines  of  tents — 


iF-»v?    ..j.^    ~,^ 


488  *  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  ' 

the  abodes  of  soldiers  summoned  to  capture  beautiful 
Strassburg — or  give  her  up  to  fire  and  sword,  death 
and  ruin. 

Oh!  Hugo  felt  as  if  a  thousand  swords  were  pierc- 
ing his  heart. 

And  no  help  from  without!  No  possibility  that 
even  the  peasants  who  lived  outside  of  Strassburg 
could  reach  the  city. 

Every  road  was  occupied  by  large  bodies  of  troops, 
every  pass  and  village  guarded. 

No  help!  No  imperial  troops!  Not  a  single  Ger- 
man banner  in  sight ! 

Hugo  felt  as  if  his  eager  eyes  must  summon  armies 
to  the  citWs  aid. 

It  seemed  as  if  he  must  shriek  aloud  to  the  German 
Empire,  "Come,  German  brothers!  Come  to  the  help 
of  your  oppressed  countrymen.  They  are  ready  to 
defend  themselves  so  far  as  lies  in  their  power — pro- 
tect their  own  property — to  fight  until  death,  but  it 
will  be  useless  without  your  assistance,  since  they 
cannot  cope  with  the  vastly  superior  numbers  of  the 
foe,  nay  are  robbed  of  almost  all  means  of  defense. 

Hugo  von  Zedlitz  clasped  both  hands  over  his  brow 
as  if  he  could  no  longer  trust  his  own  brain,  where 
mad  thoughts  were  brooding — for  it  was  madness  in 
the  German  empire,  emperor,  princes  and  people  to 
let  this  happen,  to  look  on  with  careless  indifference, 
to  see  the  avaricious  King  of  France  rob  Germany  of 
one  of  its  best,  most  beautiful  and  important  provinces 


■  .iAl.'ii'i-lW^S-'Til  -fl 


THE    CAPITULATION  489 

— a  great,  wealthy  province,  a  true  pearl  of  the  empire. 

And  not  a  banner,  not  the  tiniest  German  flag — as 
far  as  the  eye  could  reach. 

Hugo  stood  with  both  hands  clasped  behind  his 
back,  gazing  into  vacancy. 

Great  souls  in    supreme    moments    feel    a    grief    so 
mighty     that    only    great    souls    can     understand     it. 
Hugo's  heart  was  not  bleeding  only  for  Strassburg,  but 
for  all  Germany,  which  he  saw    humiliated,    trampled 
in  the  dust  .jeered  and  dismembered  by  the  arrogant  foe. 

Yonder — where  a  bridge  spanned  the  111 — stood  the 
village  of  lilkirch.  It  was  Montclar's  headquarters 
and  here  Louvois  was  to  arrive — and  the  fate  of  Strass- 
burg be  decided. 

This  recollection  darted  like  a  falcon  on  Hugo's  sor- 
rowful thoughts  and  tore  them  to  picees. 

Anger  filled  his  heart  and  the  old  courage  rose  as  if 
on  eagle's  wings. 

His  arms  fell  and  his  hand  clutched  his  sword-hilt: 
he  drew  himself  up  proudly  and  his  eyes  flashed  upon 
lilkirch  as  if  his  glances  could    destroy    the    servants 
of  the  crowned  robber. 

Hugo  felt  his  heart  still  throbbing  with  love  for 
his  native  land  and — he  knew — thousands  of  citizens 
were  standing  below  on  the  walls  who  thought  as  he 
did,  who  had  appointed  him  their  leader;  who  were 
willing  to  try — cost  what  it  might — to  hold  the  city 
until  perhaps  aid  could  come,  or  the  bold  robber — 
shamed  by  the  resistance — should  withdraw. 


y^-^K"      -      ^=^^*'T*'V^'*^^^'=^ 


400  A   ROYAL    ROBBER  1 

If  this  did  not  succeed— why,  it  was  settled  among 
them  to  at  least  save  the  honor  of  Strassburg  and 
Germany,  and — defend  the  city  to  the  last  man. 

Hugo  von  Zedlitz  was  restored  to  himelf  and  the 
object  that  brought  him  to  the  cathedral. 

His  keen  eye  now  calmly  surveyed  the  wid^  expanse 
of  country,  whose  every  tree  and  bush  he  knew.  He 
hastily  estimated  the  strength  of  the  enemy,  noted  the 
positions  and  estimated  the  greater  or  lesser  danger 
that  threatened  each  bastion  of  Strassburg.  " 

Then — with  one  more  glance  into  the  distance  to  see 
if  no  aid  were  near,  one  more  sad  sigh — Hugo  turned 
to  go,  .  .  J 

But  what?  Did  he  see  right?  Was  God  sending  an 
angel  to  him?  In  his  returning  agitation  it  seemed  so, 
for  at  this  moment,  a  lovely  girl,  followed  by  an  older 
woman,  appeared  on  the  platform  of  the  cathedral. 

Hugo  looked  up.  Oh!  Heavens!  It  was  Alma  and 
her  mother. 

"Alma!"  cried  Hugo,  hurrying  towards  her  with  ex- 
tended arms,  "Alma,  mother,  how  do  you  come  here? 
At  this  time,   ^//is  hour?" 

"We  have  come  to  look  for  you!"  replied  the  Syn- 
dicus'  daughter  with  a  sad  smile,  while  a  momentary 
flush  crimsoned  her  fair  face.    -  i 

"Our  anxiety  and  fear  for  my  husband  and  you," 
added  the  mother,  "would  not  allow  us  to  remain  at 
home— you  have  eaten  nothing  for  two  days  and 
nights—" 


. '  .i 


THE    CAPITULATION  49 1 

"It  is  true!"  said  Hugo,  "since  that  happy  evening 
when  we  celebrated  our  dear  father's  fecovery." 

"And  which  was  so  terribly  interrupted— Who 
would  have  thought  of  it — " 

"But  it  is  of  no  consequence!"  Hugo  interrupted. 
"Who  has  time  to  think  of  anything  except  the  de- 
fense gf  the  city.     If  only  father — " 

"We  saw  him  in  the  cit}', "  replied  Alma,  "lie  is  not 
to  be  recognized;  his  energy  has  redoubled  his 
strength;  he  works,  talks  and  struggles  against  the 
Giinzer  party  like  a  mere  youth." 

"But  the  refreshment  will  do  him  good.  He  who 
desires  to  struggle  bravely,  be  it  mentally  or  physic- 
ally, must  keep  up  his  strength," 

"That  is  why  we  hurried  to  find  jou — " . 

"And  heard  on  the  walls  that  you  were  here,  noting 
the  position  of  the  enemy — " 

"And  here  are  food  and  drink! "  said  Alma  eagerly, 
as  she  drew  out  the  provisions  and  Hedwig  took  a  flask 
of  wine  from  her  pocket — -"and  now  eat." 

"You  kind  souls!"  exclaimed  Hugo  gratefully, 

"Not  a  word,  my  son!"  said  the  Syndicus'  wife,  "at 
such  times  each  person  has  a  share  of  duty  to  perform. 
All  the  brave  girls  and  women  in  Strassburg  are  doing 
the  same  as  ourselves." 

"Ah!  then  I  have  fresh  hope!"  cried  Hugo  joyously. 

All  three  now  sat  down  a  moment  on  a  stone  bench, 
while  the  young  man  hastily  eat  the  food  so  unex- 
pectedly brought.     There  certainly    was    no    time    to 


.^'k  V-^;-'-- 


-'■T%iii«^SS^Sfi?ii?a,';*^>iS(6ft;ii>^v^^ 


492  *      A  ROYAL  ROBBER       '         .]  ^^ 

lose,  he  was  already  expected  below;  nay  his  presence 
might  be  necessary. 

Even  while  taking  the  hasty  meal  his  thoughts  were 
busied  with  his  brothers  and  companions  inarms.  He 
asked  whether  the  deputies  from  the  guilds  had  returned 
and  the  ammunition  had  been  delivered;  but  only 
learned  that  the  S3mdicus  was  still  laboring  in  behalf 
of  the  measure,  yet  anxiety  and  dread  of  precipitation 
had  such  power  over  the  magistrates  that  they  would 
hear  no  reason. 

Hugo  hastily  swallowed  the  last  mouthful. 
"I  must  go  down!"  he  exclaimed,  "I  must  go  to  the 
magistrates,   to  entreat    them    to    trust    the    citizens! 
The  guilds     are     faithful  and  well    disposed;    they  are 
ready  to  risk  money  and  life 'to  save  the  city." 

"Then  go  where  your  duty  calls    you!"    said    Alma. 
"I  am  proud  of  you  and  wish  to  continue  to  be  so.." 
"And  3'ou"  asked  Hugo  in  surprise. 
"We  will  have  our  share  in  the  sacred  struggle." 
"You?      How?" 

"The  warder  of  the  tower  is  old  and  feeble,"  said 
Hedwig;  "but  his  son  and  assistant  is  a  young  vigor- 
ous man.  Such  men  are  now  worth  more  than  money. 
Therefore  the  son  shall  go  to  take  his  place  among  the 
defenders  of  the  city — " 

"And  we!"  cried  Alma  with  eager  interest,  "we  will 
remain  here  all  day  and  lend  the  old  man  our  eyes 
and  hands.  If  we  see  aid  approaching,  we  will  wave 
white  handkerchiefs  which  we    brought    with    us,  but 


|^:'7»-.-:>i. _.•,-■,■•-:  ■       .-•T5'»s^T^fj*-;;-vc-"'---i'r^ 


THE   CAPITULATION"  493 

should  we  perceive  any  suspicious  movement  on  the 
part  of  the  enemy  towards  the  city,  v.-e  will  sound  the 
alarm  bell  there  by  giving  you  a  warning,  the  old 
warder  can  then  announce  the  direction  from  wliich  the 
danger  is  approaching  by  hanging  the  red  flag  out 
towards  the  neighborhood  concerned. " 

"Admirable!"  cried  Hugo,  "then  good  angels  will 
surel}'  watch  over  us  and  our  city. " 

"But  when  darkness  comes,"  Hedwig  continued, 
"we  will  go  down  and  bring  food  to  father  and  you. 
I  also  told  the  maid-servant  to  carry  to  the  walls  every 
noon  a  basket  filled  with  meat,  bread  and  wine  to 
strengthen  those  who  are  weak  from  want  of  food.  I 
am  sure  the  example  will  be  imitated  and  then  this 
want  will  be  relieved."  - 

"Oh!  Strassburg!  Strassburg!"  cried  Hugo  enthusi- 
astically, "you  are  not  lost  while  such  wom.en  dwell 
within  your  walls."  , 

Then  embracing  Alma    and    her    mother,    he    said  : 

"Now  go  down  and  boldly  bid  defiance  to  fate.  If 
the  emperor  and  empire  have  deserted  us,  we  will  not 
shrink  back,  but  hold  out  to  the  last  man,  and  defend 
the  city  to  our  latest  breath." 

"May  God  protect  her  and  us!"  cried  the  mother. 

But  Alma  threw  herself  into  her  lover's  arms, 
pressed  an  ardent  kiss  on  Hugo's  lips  and  said: 

"Heaven  be  with  you.  I  am  yours — in  life  and 
death." 

Then  she  turned  awayr-and  motioned  tpHugo  to  s"o. 


-J^SIfc.'-*  ■ 


494  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  i 

When  Hugo  reached  the  street,  every  one  was  in 
motion. 

He  asked  some  one,  who  was  hurrying  by,  the  cause; 
and  learned  that  thj  French  Minister  of  War,  the 
Marquis  of  Louvois,  had  reached  the  headquarters  at 
Illkirch  and  instantl}'  demanded  that  a  deputation  of 
magistrates  should  be  sent  to  him,  as  he  had  commu- 
nications to  make  in  the  name  of  His  Majesty,  Louis 
XIV. 

The  deputation  was  actually  about  to  set   forth    for: 
Illkirch. 

Hugo  hurried  to  the  walls.  His  first  question  was 
to  ask  Wenck  what  the  magistrates  had  said  about  the 
ammunition? 

The  little  tailor  laughed  aloud  in  his  rage,  and 
replied.  'What  have  they  decided?  That  no  deter- 
mination can  be  made  until  the  return  of  the  deputa- 
tion from  Illkirch. " 

"What?"  cried  Hugo  turning  pale,   "not  yet?" 

"Patience,  young  hot- head, "  said  Wenck,  while  his 
face  actually  turned  green  and  yellow  with  anger. 
"Patience!  the  ammunition  will  come — only  that 
scoundrel  Giinzer  won't  deliver  it  to  us,  but  the  ac- 
cursed French.  Well,  who  knows  what  good  it  may 
do!"  ■ 

Not  far  from  Strassburg,  in  the  open  country,  lie 
the  villages  of  Illkirch  and  Graffenstaden.  Even  at  the 
present  day,  in  the  former  may  be  seen  the  ever 
memorable  building  where  the  negotiation  of  1681  was 

1-    ^--'M-'.: 


.  _-'^«?i-'4i9„4.-r-'^  ~-^ 


THE    CAPITULATION 


495 


conducted,  although  now  ruined  and  robbed  of  the 
beautiful  window  from  which  Monseigneur  Louvois 
gazed  at  his  prey  wuth  triumphant  e\es. 

A  small  number  of  horsemen  were  now  approaching 
the  house. 

It  was  the  deputation  of    magistrates    from    Strass- 
burg. 

At  their  head  rode    a    trumpeter    and    two    heralds 
arrayed  in  the  colors  of  the  city. 

These  were  followed  at  a  short  distance  by  eight 
grave  pale-faced  men  attired  in  black,  who  rode 
silently  along  and  whose  dignified  appearance  made 
the  spectators  forget  the  skill  which,  in  the  eyes  of 
practised  horsemen,  they  might  lack  in  this  knightly 
art.  They  are  the  magistrates.  Von  Zedlitz,  Domi- 
nique Deitrich,  Hecker,  Froresen,  Richshoffer,  Stor, 
"Frantz  and  Giinzer,  Sieur  of  Plobsheim. 

When  the  little  party  approached  the  house    at    111-  , 
kirch,  the  guard  presented    arms    and    received  them 
with  a  salute. 

The  trumpeter  blew  a  loud  blast,  the  heralds — hold- 
ing their  white  wands — stopped,  and  the  magistrates 
silently  dismounted.  Their  features  expressed  the 
utmost  gravity. 

Two  officers  had  received  them  at  the  door  and  now 
conducted  them  to  a  wide,  spacious  apartment  in  the 
upper  story.  ..„,    jr  ,   ,, 

Here  they  were  regues.ted  to  wait  for  hisExcellencj'. 
And   in  fact77-i|:,£,jy:5.s,., probably   a  quarter  of    an    hour 


^:'X;'0;-.'; 


496  A    ROYAL    ROBBER 

before  Monseigneur  condescended  to  allow  the   sun  of 

his  favor  to  rise  before  their  eyes.  i 

This  was  an  extremely  painful  delay — especially   to 

Frantz  and  Deitrich  — and  seemed  prolonged  to  hours. 
No  one  uttered  a    word;    but    ever}^    heart  throbbed 

lieavily;    perhaps  it  was  the  iron  finger  of  conscience, 

which,  in  tbis^decisive  hour,  knocked  loudly  at  one  and 

another. 

,,  At  last  the  door  opened  and  the  Marquis  de  Louvois 

^entered,  followed  b}^  General  Montclar  and  his  whole 
,staff. 
,       Louvois*  head  was  covered,  but    on  perceiving    the 

,l,Q,w  bows  ;0f  the    Strassburg    magistrates,  he  slightly 

raided  his  hat. 

_,The  niinister,sat  down — the  negotiation    began,  but 

it  was  very    similar    to    the    interview    with    Geueral 
;  yio.ntcl'dTC  the  day  before. 

,,,  ,Th.e_ objections  and  replies  of  the   magistrates   were 

also     the    same.      Syndicus    t^'rantz    spoke'  with     the 
.  wa,rmth  and  eloquence  peculiar    to    him,  but    Loiivois 
.hastily  cut  him  short. 
^  I,    "It  is  well,  gentlemen!"  he  harshly  exclairned,  "Spare 

vour  words.  I  did  not  come  heris  to  discus's  'the 
..  (!ue,stion;j  but  to  perform  the  will  of  my'  master  "and 
,,:k.irig.  ,   The  city,  by   the    treaty    of   Westphalia,'    was 

ceded  to  France,  and  the    treaty    of    T>3rymwegen  'con- 
.  fi,ri)ied  the  r,igh^  of  His  Majesty,  Louis  XtV."^  "i'" 
,.,     i  "Pardon  me,  Your   Excellency!  "  interrupted 'Syndi- 

cus  Frantz  with 'a  courage  tb'at  made  his'  companions 


;  .  THE    CAPITULATION  4'  7 

_  tremble,   "pardon  me,  Your  Excellency,  but  that  is  ?iof 

'  so.      The  Westphalian  treaty  runs  as  follows!     ..." 

Frantz  drew  a  parchment  from  his  pocket  and  read  : 

"France  receives  the  consent  of  the  empire  to  retain 

possession  of  Metz,  Toul,   and  Verdun,  which  she  has 

held  since  1552  as  well  as  the  provinces  of  Upper  and 

Lower  Alsace,  the  Sundgau,  Breisach,    and   Hagenau, 

with  the  exception  that  the  bishops  of   Strassburg,  the 

city  of  Strassburg,  and  ten  other  free  cities   in  Alsace, 

four  abbots,  the  Counts  of  Lutzelstein,  Hanau,  Fluken- 

stein,  and  Oberstein,  and  the  knights    of    the    empire 

residing  there,  are  to  retain  their  fealty  to  the  German 

empire. 

"The    treaty    of     Nymwegen,    as    Your    Excellency 
knows,     made    no    alteration    in    this     respect.      The 
Westphalian  treaty  was  confirmed,  and  for    that    very 
reason  no  mention  is  made  of  Strassburg." 
Frantz  was  silent. 
Louvois'  eyes  blazed  with  anger. 

"Enough!"  he  thundered — "The  Chambres  de  Reunions 
have  already  decided — " 

"Which  they  cannot    do!"  replied   Frantz    steadily. 

"Neither  the  Chambres   de  Reunions    nor    His    Majesty 

of  France  have  the  power  to  interpret  and  explain  the 

"tt'^&'ty  of  Westphalia.      To  make  a  valid  interpretation 

of  this  treaty  requires  the  consent  of    all    the    powers 

'  th!a't'  %i|ned '  \ii^-  ^-  •  ^  "  •  •*  I 

. '''*^Doutil!le^s"thit"'ii"' your    opinion,    Syndicus!  "  ex- 
'*tla-^fliM-L^iiY(7is^vi|th  bitter  scorn.     "Tt  is  a  pity  that 

73     Robber 


i5<«;^-^iK^ ;..:;/!-;  l^/tiL.-.'- 


''^'^^f^!^^t'i^^f?^s'^=^C^^  ■ 


:,.-?Vr..'^ 


4q8  A   ROYAL   ROBBER 

France  does  not  require  this  wise  coun"sel.  As  I  said 
before,  the  Chambres  de  Riuniofis  have  decided  and 
thai  settles  the  matter.  Take  notice,  gentlemen,"  he 
added,  turning  to  the  other  deputies,  "take  notice  that 
General  Montclar  has  already  made  known  His  Majes- 
ty's views  to  the  magistrates  of  Strassburg,  so  they 
have  had  time  for  reflection  and  I  require  prompt 
decision.  If  no  assenting  answer  is  received  by  seven 
o'clock  this  evening,  I  shall  pay  further  attention  and 
—  treat  the  citizens  of  Stassburg  not  only  as  ordinary 
enemies,  but — rebels.  v; 

"There  can  be  no  question  of  consideration  after  the 
capture  of  the  city.  If  therefore  the  citizens  accept 
the  proffered  favor  of  His  Most  Christian  Majesty, 
Louis  XIV  of  France,  all  their  privileges,  forth  civil 
and  ecclesiastical,  will  be  secured  to  them." 

With  these  words  Louvois  rose  and,  with  a  scornful 
farewell,  left  the  room. 

What  excitement  and  despair  the  return  of  the 
deputation  occasioned  throughout  the  city.        , 

Ammeister  Dominique  Deitrich,  Syndicus  Frantz 
and  Hugo  von  Zedlitz,  had  the  utmost  difficulty  in 
maintaining  order,  though  aided  by  three  sensible,  far 
sighted  men.  The  guilds  shrieked  for  ammunition ; 
hundreds  loudly  shouted:  "Down  with  the  traitors 
among  the  magistrates." 

"Down  with  the  traitors!     Down  with  the  French!" 

Such  were  the  shouts  that  echoed  from  the  walls; 
amid  such  outcries,  throngs  of   people    consisting    of 


.  .-^/tjif.  Ik^^^S^.-^^^ .  VrLi*  ^.  js^bA±t^. 


-■     f     il^Jf  ^  <■ 


THE  CAPITULATION  499 

'        ■  • .  - 

men,  women  and  children,  rushed  though    the   streets 
to  the  Rathhaus. 

But  no  help  came. 

How  often  Hugo's  eyes  wandered  to  the  cathedral, 
the  white  flags  would  not  wave. 

Not  one  banner,  not  one  little  flag  belonging  to  the 
imperial  troops  appeared. 

But  Hugo  had  most  difficulty    in    soothing    Wenck. 

The  jovial,  little  tailor  had  become  a  tiger.  His  eyes 
glittered  like  lightning.  He  fairly  thirsted  for  French 
blood,  especially  since  from  one  of  the  towers  built 
along  the  wall,  he  had  discovered  a  regiment  of  French 
cuirassiers  near  the  city. 

"Hack  them  all  in  pieces!"  he  cried  again  and  again. 
"Who  knows  what  good  it  may  do." 

Yet  Hugo,  the  Syndicus  and  others  at  last  succeeded 
in  restoring  the  city  to  order  at  this  infinitely  impor- 
tant moment  of  her  destiny. 

Even  the  guilds — down  to  the  one  most  eager  for  the 
fra}',  the  tailor's  guild,  headed  by  Wenck — allowed 
themselves  to  be  persuaded  to  wait  for  the  decision 
oi  the  great  council  of  three  hundted. 

Confidence  returned  with  the  assembling  of  the  three 
hundred;  for  all  the  citizens  were  represented  in  the 
great  council.  What  it  decided  must  be  considered 
as  the  legal  result  of  the  public  will. 

But  hour  and  hour  passed  audi— no  decision  was 
reached. 

Frantz   and   his    adherents   struggled    to   have    the 


^mp^^'^^ffy?-^'^:^:;::^-^!^ 


500  A  ROYAL  ROBBER 

French  demands  refused  and  the  city  {defended. 
Ammeister  Deitn'ch  and  the  timid  ones  saw  unless  the 
city  desired  to  plunge  into  ruin,  but  one  means  of 
escape,  j;hat  of  yielding  to  inevitable  destiny.  But 
Giinzer  in  his  craft,  assailed  the  assembly  in  its  most 
sensitive  point,  the  pocket,  painted  in  vivid  colors 
the  horrible  consequence  of  the  conquest  and  pillage 
of  the  city,  and  calculated  in  terrible  figures  what  the 
expenses  of  the  war  would  be  to  the  community  and 
each  individual. 

A  request  was  sent  by  a  mounted  messenger  to  Mon- 
seigneur  Louvois  for  an  extension  of  the  time  of 
giving  the  answer  until  noon  of  the  following  day. 

Louvois  granted  the  petition. 

But  the  state  of  affairs  did  not  change,  the  discussions 
consultations,  enumerations  of  the  dangers  on  one 
side  and  the  other,   questions  of  votes,  lasted  all  night. 

From  hour  to  hour,  news  was  sent  to  the  guilds  on 
the  walls  regarding  the  state  of  affairs  in  the  council. 
Nay,  the  council  even  asked  their  views  and  opinions. 

The  verdict  was  almost  unanimous  for  the  defense 
of  the  city. 

Then  news  suddenly  arrived  which  crushed  the  last 
hope,  news  that  all  the  couriers  sent  out  by  the  mag- 
istrates with  despatches  appealing  for  help  had  been 
captured  by  the  French.  • 

Now  aid  was  no  longer  to  be  expected  and  resistance 
became  madness  and  folly. 

The  iron  die  of  fate  fell — the  great  majority   of  the 


THE    CAPITULATION  "  50I 

council  voted  for  capitulation.  The  tailor's  guild 
alone  rejected  every  agreement  and  wanted  to  defend 
themselves  unto  death. 

Frantz  and  his  party  submitted  to  the  decidedly  ex- 
pressed will  of  the  people.  Reason  told  them  what 
even  love  for  their  native  city  now  dictated,  that 
under  such  circumstances  onl}^  a  surrender  could  save 
Strassburg  from  total  destruction. 

Hugo  von  Zedlitz  also  submitted  with  a  sigh  to  the 
inevitable — he  would  rather  have  been  buried  under 
the  ruins  of  the  walls. 

The  various  articles  of  the  act  of  capitulation  were 
now  written  and  the  paper,  after  receiving  the  ap- 
proval of  the  magistrates  and  citizens,  sent  to  the 
Marquis  de  Louvois,  who  showed  great  pleasure  at 
the  sight  of  the  document. 

By  virtue  of  this  capitulation  the  French  army 
fifteen  thousand  strong,  occupied  the  city  of  Strass- 
burg on  the  30th  of  September,  1681. 

The  inhabitants  gazed  at  the  entering  troops  in 
silence. 

All  remained  quiet — one  alone  could  not  endure  this 
disgrace,  this  blow.  It  was  Wenck.  Though  grind- 
ing his  teeth  and  clenching  his  hands,  he  controlled 
himself  for  some  time,  but  when  he  suddenly  saw  a 
regiment  of  his  hated  enemies,  the  French  cuirassiers^ 
march  by,  he  could  bear  it  no  longer. 

As  if  pursued  by  the  furies,  Wenck  hurried  home, 
snatched    his    gun    from    the    wall,  filled    his   pockets 


502  A    ROVAL   ROBBER 

with   powder  and  lead,  and  returned    with  flying  feet. 

"Where  are  the  scoundrels!"  he  shouted,  foaming 
with  rage. 

"What  scoundrels?"  people  asked   in   astonishment. 

"Why,  the  French  cuirassiers!"  cried  Wenclc,  his 
eyes  flaming  with  anger. 

"They  are  encamped  on  the  Barsuserplatz. " 

"Good!"  said  the  little  tailor,  darting  onward  like 
an  arrow. 

Now  he  reached  the  square,  caught  sight  of  them, 
and  with  the  shout : 

"Down  with  the  tyrant's  slaves — long  live  freedom. 
Long  live  Strassburg!  Follow  me,  citizens!"  two 
shots  from  the  double  barrelled  gun  crashed  on  the  air, 
the  bullets  whistled  by  and  four  cuirassiers  fell  wounded 
on  the  ground. 

"Madman!"  cried  Hugo  von  Zedlitz,  dragging  him 
back  among  the  crowd. 

"Madman!  What  can  one  do  against  a  crowd;  away 
from  here  and  save  yourself!" 

"One?"  cried  Wenck  with  burning  brain.  "If  they 
had  all  thought  as  I  do,  our  dear,  beautiful  Strassburg 
would  still  be  free,  gut  I've  shot  four  of  the  dogs. 
God  grant  that  they  may  be  dead!  Who  knows  what 
good  it  may  do !" 

"Away!"  cried  Hugo,  who  saw  a  party  of  cuirassiers 
rushing  forward.  "Away,"  and  he  drsrgged  Wenck  off 
by  force.  In  a  few  bounds  they  reached  the  corner  of 
the  street,  but   the   pursuers    had    seen    them,  several 


'^:^  *Jd::T»^-^\-rt2!s3^^:^'~^jL4^i-'^fei^t£  .2^^ 


=rT= 


th£  capitulation 


503 


bullets  hissed  through  the  air  and  Wenck  lay  dead  on 
the  ground.     A  French  bullet   had  pierced  his  heart. 


aaihffi-^fe^^-i^ 


CHAPTER  VI. 


DREAMS  AND  ILLUSIONS. 


So  Strassburg  was  in  the  hands  of  the  French.         .. 

On  the  following  da}',  the  first  of  October,  the 
council  of  three  hundred  assembled  and  the  capitula- 
tion was  read.  As  it  secured  all  their  privileges  and 
the  exercise  of  the  Protestant  religion,  they  expressed 
themselves  satisfied.  The  city  authorities  were  occu- 
pied several  days  in  arranging  quarters  for  the  troops. 
In  the  letter,  in  which  Louvois  announced  to  his  king 
with  joyful  satisfaction  the  capitulation  of  Strassbufg, 
he  requested  a  speedy  ratification,  as  he  was  in  haste 
to  take  possession  of  the  fortifications  between  the 
city  and  the  Rhine.  On  the  morning  of  October  ist 
he  ordered  engineers  to  draw  plans,  that  Vauban,  who 
was  to  arrive  the  next  day,  might  be  able  to  carry  his 
projected  fortification  into  execution  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible. On  the  4th  of  October  Vauban  commenced  his 
task;  to  the  works  already  in  existence,  which  he 
found  in  the  best  condition,  he  added  the  citadel,  not 
only  to  make  the  place  unassailable,  but  also  to  hold 
the  inhabitants  in  check;  besides  at  this  time  a  canal 
was  dug  to  procure  building  materials. 

Paris  exulted.      The  king  and  his  whole    court     left 

SU4 


•■r'^:  ■  4l::'.'.^C\.->  :.$!*Rl:.ij^el^±MSKl&-.. 


wy^      ■*  -"^a^piss^wp^^^^^ 


.  '  -     DREAMS   AND   ILLUSIONS  505 

the  capital  to  go  to  Strassburg  and  receive  the  homage 
of  his  new  subjects. 

But  sad  thoughts  were  filling  the  heart  of  Louis 
XIV.  Fierce  storms  had  passed  over  him  of  late,  and 
dark  shadows  rising  from  another  quarter  clouded  his 
joy  at  the  fall  of  Strassburg. 

It  was  just  after  the  return  from  Colmar  that  the 
Duchesse  de  Fontanges — who  was  now,  at  least  accord- 
ing to  appearances,  at  the  summit  of  power — received 
through  her  maid  news  which  produced  a  deep  impres- 
sion upon  her. 

Since  Gauthier*s  arrest  in  her  room  and  imprison- 
ment in  the  Bastile,  it  had  been  impossible  for  her  to 
gain  the  smallest  information  about  the  fate  of  the 
unfortunate  companion  of  her  childhood. 

Only  once  she  had  ventured  to  implore  the  king's 
pardon  for  him,  but  this  once  had  sufficed.  The  out- 
burst of  anger  from  her  royal  lover  forever  sealed  her 
lips. 

But  there  was  no  depth  or  energy  In  Marie  Ange- 
line's  character.  Her  innate  vanity  and  love  of 
splendor  smothered  all  deeper  feelings  and,  in  the 
constant  intoxication  of  pleasure  that  surrounded  her, 
she  only  too  easily  forgot  everything  serious  in  life, 
everything  that  affected  her  unpleasantl}^ 

The  memorj'  of  the  scene  in  her  sleeping  room, 
however,  as  well  as  that  of  Gauthier,  haunted  her  like 
ghosts. 

The  Bastile  was  In  the  habit  of  keeping    silence    in 


506  A    ROVAL   ROBBER  'j 

regard  to  everything  that  passed  within  its  walls.  It 
was  a  gigantic  grave  to  all  those  whose  unhappy  fate 
led  them  to  it.  It  stood  like  a  terrible  secret  in  the 
midst  of  gay,  thoughtless  Paris,  the  gloomy  building 
with  its  moats,  bastions  and  eight  huge  towers— in 
which  so  many  were  buried  alive  forever. 

But  money  and  influence  can  make  even  the  thickest 
walls  speak,  and  there  was  some  one  in  France  who 
was  interested  in  Gauthier's  fate.  Angeline's  former 
relations  to  this  young  man  and  the  story  of  his  en- 
counter with  the  king  in  her  apartment  formed  the 
vulnerable  point  in  the  armor  of  the  haughty  Duchesse 
de  Fontanges. 

This  was  the  spot  where  she  might  be  mortally 
wounded,  she  and — the  king. 

Was  it  not  always  possible  to  ruin  the  hated  beauty 
by  this  story? 

Who  could  tell? 

There  was  one  who  bitterly  hated  the  haughty  Ange- 
line,  desired  nothing  more  ardently  than  her  fall,  one 
who  had  made  the  fall  of  the  Duchesse  de  Fontanges, 
whose  elevation  had  been  the  cause  of  her  own  ruin, 
the  one  task  of  her  life.  And  this  person  was — the 
Marquise  de  Montespan. 

The  court  of  Louis  XIV  was  the  school  of  love  and 
hate.  The  marquise  had  not  passed  through  this  school 
in  vain;  nor  had  she  sighed  her  time  av/ay  in  torturing 
loneliness  during  her  exile  at  Tonnay-Charante.  She 
had  secretly  come  to  Paris  long  ago,  in  order  to  watch 


r 


DREAMS    AND    ILLUSIONS  507 

the  course  of  affairs  in  which  she  was  interested.  And 
indeed  she — who  had  herself  woven  so  many  court 
intrigues — possessed  an  eagle  eye  in  such  matters.  -  But 
she  also  possessed  something  peculiar  to  those  da3'S 
— superstition,  and  this  weakness  led  her  to  the 
famous  fortune-teller,  La  Voisin. 

She  must  learn  through  this  woman  the  future  fate 
of  her  hated  and  now  victorious  rival. 

"The  rule  of  the  Duchesse  de  Fontanges  will  be 
short,"  replied  the  mysterious  cards,  "but  only  the  hand 
that  raised  can  ruin  her." 

The  marquise  secretly  exulted. 

The  answer  was  certainly  mysterious.  Who  had 
raised  this  little  Duchesse  de  Fontanges?  Undoubt- 
edly she,  the  marquise;  yet  one  might  also  say  the 
king,  the  Due  de  Saint  Aignan  had  a  share,  and 
Gauthier  too,  who  had  been  used  as  a  means. 

How  was  the  affair  to  be  commenced? 

The  marquise's  cunning  aided  her  to  a  master-piece 
in  the  art  of  intrigue.  She  said  to  herself :  La  Voisin' s 
prediction  must  prove  true  if  I  use  the  four  hands  that 
combined  to  raise  the  Duchesse  de  Fontanges — to  ruin 
her. 

Darkness  and  silence  concealed  the  Marquise  de 
Montespan's  farther  negotiations  with  La  Voisin.  In 
the  first  place  her  money  opened  the  lips  of  the 
Bastile.  She  learned  precisely  how  Gauthier  fared,  and 
as  the  Duchesse  de  Fontanges'  maid  was  secretly  em- 
ployed by  the    Marquise  de    Montespan,  the   haughty 


■^C^'Gs.jpr:,.  .«*?t.*ft,....-^.  .'^.'^     *,..*-*^'-.  . 


.508  A    ROYAL    ROBBER 

Angelme — at  a  hint  from  the  former — learned  the  news 
which  we  have  said,  deeply  moved  her. 

It  was  the  tidings  that  Gauthier  lived,  but  was  con- 
demned to  death.  The  sentence  would  be  executed 
in  a  few  days. 

This  blow  fell  upon  Angeline  with  too  crushing  a 
weight  not  to  rouse  her  from  her  frivolity.  Her  heart 
was  neither  bad  nor  unfeeling,  only,  like  her  whole 
nature,  it  lacked  depth.  , 

Condemned  to  death?  They  are  terrible  words, 
especially  when  conscience  says  that  we  are  to  blame 
for  the  horrible  sentence. 

Startled  from  the  giddy  whirl  of  pleasure,  the  de- 
lirium of  luxury  and  splendor,  this  news  almost 
crushed  her  to  the  earth. 

In  her  excited  imagination  she  already  saw  the  terri- 
ble deed  done. 

Angeline  was  frantic  with  grief.  Pain,  sorrow,  and 
the  pangs  of  conscience  had  hitherto  had  little  place 
in  the  book  of  her  life.  The  former  fate  had  spared 
her,  the  latter  she  had  spared  herself.  But — this  time 
her  conscience  was  no  courtier:  it  did  not  bend,  was 
not  silent,  but  cried  loudly:      "You  are  his  murderess!" 

In  vain  the  proud,  beautiful  duchesse  strove  to  re- 
call her  former  frivolity — it  was  useless. 

Vainly,  in  her  anguish  and  despair,  she  strove  to 
plunge  into  a  still  madder  whirl  of  pleasure  and  ex- 
citement— it  was  useless.  The  pallid  ghost  of  Loches 
again  rose  before  her  soul. 


p-.<I;?jw-:-vV**  .■«.-».it/;:^"..ift5S!^  ■-:■*; 


J 


,    •"  DREAMS    AND    ILLUSIONS  $og 

Angeline  would  gladly  have  implored  Gauthier's  for- 
giveness on  her  knees,  and  yet — so  weak  was  her 
character — that  she  did  not  venture  to  appeal  to  the 
king.  The  fear  of  her  royal  lover's  anger,  the  dread 
of  imperiling  her  position  again,  won  the  victory  over 
the  better  and  nobler  emotions  of  her  heart. 

Her  maid  now  gave  a  fresh  proof  of  her  kind  feeling 
towards  the  young  duchesse.  She  listened  affection- 
ately, tenderly  endeavored  to  console  Angeline,  and 
suggested  a  plan  to  save  the  unfortunate  prisoner. 

"Money,"  she  said,  "money  can  do  anything  in  the 
world.  •' 

"I  will  joyfully  pay  the  price  of  a  principality,"  cried 
Angeline,  "if  I  can  save  him.  I  will  scatter  money, 
jewels,  only  help  me  rescue  him  from  death." 

"And  would  you  have  courage  to  visit  him  in  secret?" 

"It  would  be  my  most  ardent  desire   to  beseech  him 
on  my  knees  to  forgive  the  wrong  I  have    done    him; 
but  the  king—" 

"He  will  know  nothing  about  it." 

"And  the  Bastlle?" 

"Will  open  to  you  In  the  quiet  night.  You  have 
the  key  in  your  own  hands." 

"I?" 

"Your  gold." 

"Take  it,  take  all  you  need." 

"It  will  be  I  great  deal." 

"No  matter.  His  Majesty's  kindness  to  me  is  inex- 
haustible.    But  through  whom? " 


A.^.*.Aei.^J.^..  . 


'i^'-^'j"    "•"'=>*'  V'T""'^ 


510  A  ROYAL  ROBBER     "  i     -"       -  • 

"Through  the  Due  de  Saint  Aignan. "  | 

"Through  the  Due  de  Saint  Aignan.  No,  that  won't 
do.     He  hates  Gauthier. " 

"But  he  loves — you,  and  therefore  will  do  all  in  his 
power  for  you  if  we  ask  him." 

"It  is  too  dangerous." 

'Let  me  arrange  the  matter.  The  due  has  nothing 
to  fear  from  the  prisoner." 

"No,"  said  Angeline  with  a  sorrowful  smile,  "and 
Saint  Aignan  is  certainly  my  best  and  most  reliable 
friend." 

"Then  consent,  Madame  la  Duehesse,  and  trust  me, 
as  you  have  so  often  done." 

"As  if  you  did  not  possess  my  entire  eonfidence.  I 
think  I  have  given  you  plenty  of  proofs  of  it." 

"For  whieh  I  shall  be  eternally  grateful,"  said  the 
maid,  kissing  her  mistress'  hand — "so  it  is  settled?" 

"Yes,"  replied  the  Duchess  de  Fontanges,  "but  I 
entreat  3'ou  to  use  the  utmost  caution.  The  king  must 
not  on  any  account  have  the  slightest  suspicion  of  it." 

"He  lives  only  for  politics  just  now.  Rely  upon 
me,  Madame  la  Duehesse." 

The  second  night  after  this  exciting  day,  an  ordinary 
hired  carriage  stopped  in  one  of  the  little  streets  of 
Paris  not  far  from  the  royal  palace. 

A  man  in  citizen's  dress  sat  within.  It  was  Saint 
Aignan. 

He  sat  resting  his  head  on  his  hand  and  his  elbow 
;on  his  knee,  absorbed  in  thought.  , 


:       :.  ^  DREAMS    AND   ILLUSIONS  51I 

Saint  Aignan  paused  a  moment. 

He  seemed  to  be  listening  for  something;  but  all 
was  still. 

The  narrow,  dark  little  street  where  his  carriage 
stood  was  deserted. 

The  due  sank  back  on  the  cushions. 

"Yes,"  he  continued.  "The  little  Duchesse  de  Fon- 
tanges  will  form  no  exception  to  her  predecessors,  she 
will  fare  like  the  beautiful  brilliant  days  of  the  tropic 
zone — sunlight  and  brightness  will  be  suddenl)'  fol- 
lowed by  the  gloom  of  night.  It  is  a  pity  about  her. 
She's  confoundedly  handsome  and — though  otherwise 
cold  as  marble — a  volcano  in  love. 

"But  the  ground  is  undermined — the  king  is  begin- 
ning to  grow  weary  of  her.  Beauty  without  intellect 
or  wit  can  bind  no  one  long,  f-ar  less  such  a  spoiled 
child  as  Louis  XIV.  Such  a  palate  requires  spicy 
food.  Devil  take  me  if  my  keen  nose  isn't  on  the 
right  scent,  if — if — His  Most  Christian  Majesty  hasn't 
for  sometime  cast  an  eye  on  the  clever  and  virtuous 
governess  of  his  children,  the  Due  de  Maine  and  Comte 
de  Toulouse.  The  worthy  widow  Scarrous  seems  very 
devout,  to  be  sure,  but — that  is  something  new  and  pi- 
quant, let  us  try  piety  awhile.  His  Majesty,  out  of 
gratitude,  has  bestowed  upon  her  the  beautiful  estate 
of  Maintenon,  made  her  a  marquise  too.  I  really  be- 
lieve this  new  Marquise  de  Maintenon  will  soon  be 
Madame  de  Maintenant. " 

The  due  sat  up  and  then  exclaimed  in  an  undertone; 


'-J^&^^r:Si:2.l■^J»^S9Sii^*^'■■AVi'.-^■.-i^^fcC■*^^^^  .*'■-._ 


512.  ,         A    ROYAL    ROBBER  .      '  ,      ;  ,;. . 

"Watch"  the  wind  has  changed — he  is  a  fool  who 
tries  to  steer  against  it.  And,  faith,  Saint  Aignan  will 
never  deserve  that  title.  -  ; 

"This  little  Duchesse  de  Fontanges  has  of  ten  by  her    'j 
boundless  pride  insulted  me,  as  well  as  the  queen  and     v: 
all  the  nobility — let  us  play  for  revenge   and    so    that 
we  shall  win  the  game.     The  short-sighted  creature- 
deluded  by  my  apparent    love    and    submission,  gives 
herself    into  my  hands.      Poor  thing — "    and    the    due  ,, 
laughed    lightly — "your  sentimentality    puts    the  rope 
around  your  own  neck." 

At  this  moment  the  clock  struck  ten. 

"Ten,"  said  the  due — "now  she  will  be  here  directly    : 
and — my  letter  will  be  placed  in  the  king's  hands." 

Saint  Aignan  was  silent  and  alighting  from  the 
carriage,  went  to  the  corner  of  the  street  to  watch. 

A  few  minutes  after,  two  muffled  female  figures 
approached.  They  were  the  Duchesse  de  Fontanges 
and  her  maid. 

Both  entered  the  carriage,  followed  by  the  due,  then   ' 
at  a  sign,  the  vehicle  proceeded  to  the  Bastile. 

A  cold  shiver  ran  through  Angeline's   frame  as    she     ;■ 
entered  the  gloomy  walls  of  this  terrible  prison,  over 
which  already  centuries,  with  their  storms,  sighs,  and    ^ 
crimes,  had  passed.  ,, 

The  fate  of  the  builder  of  the  Bastile  must    be  con- 
sidered a  dark  omen  of  the  deeds  of  horror  which    the    -C 
tyranny  of  the  rulers  of  France  caused  to  be  executed 


DREAMS    AND    TLLUSTOKS  513 

here  for  centuries.  It  was  Hugo  Aubriot,  Intendant  of 
the  finances  at  the  French  court,  who — at  the  king's 
command — erected  the  Bastile,  and  afterwards,  on  the 
charge  of  being  a  heretic,  breathed  out  his  life  there, 
the  first  prisoner  within  its  walls. 

Angeline  drew  her  cloak  closer  around  her,  and  in- 
voluntarily pressed  her  hand  upon  her  heart,  to  feel 
whether  it  was  still  beating. 

Such  terrible  dread  suddenly  took  possession  of  her, 
that  if  it  had  been  possible  to  return,  she  would  have 
done  so. 

They  were  standing  before  a  door  heavily  bound  with 
iron  and  closed  by  three  huge  locks.  It  was  the  door 
of  Gauthier's  prison. 

The  Duchesse  de  Fontanges  pressed  a  purse  full  of 
gold  into  the  warder's  hand,  but  her  own  trembled  so 
violently  that  the  money  almost  slipped  from  her 
grasp. 

The  jailer  took  the  bunch  of  keys  from  his  side. 
The  locks  were  opened — three  bolts  creaked — the  door 
swung  back. 

Darkness  and  silence  pervaded  the  damp,  narrow 
apartment. 

The  atmosphere  that  met  the  young  duchesse  almost 
stifled  her.  Her  senses  failed,  an  icy  weight  oppressed 
her  heart— she  was  on  the  verge  of  fainting.  Fortu- 
nately at  that  moment  Saint  Aignan  offered  her  his 
arm,  her  foot  sought  the  threshold,  the  jailer  led  the 
way  with  a  lamp. 
^j     Robber 


514  .  A   ROYAL   ROBBER     ',       ^ 

,  The  feeble  light  of  the  lamp,  which  the  jailer  held 
aloft  to  give  its  faint  rays  more  space,  flickered  un- 
steadily in  the  dark  room,  and  dimly  illuminated  the 
damp,  gloomy  walls. 

It  was  some  seconds  ere  Angeline's  and  Saint  Aign- 
an's  eyes  could  penetrate  the  dusk. 

"He's  asleep,"  said  the  jailer,  and  with  these  words 
he  pointed  towards  a  corner  of  the  dungeon. 

The  duchesse  approached;  but  a  sudden  horror 
seized  upon  her  as  she  saw  a  human  form,  emaciated 
almost  to  a  skeleton,  lying  on  a  heap  of  mouldy  straw. 

With  a  terrible  pang  in  her  heart,  she  involuntarily 
put  out  both  hands  and  retreated. 

Horror  and  repugnance  suddenly  took  possession  of 
the  spoiled  child  of  fortune.  Her  whole  nervous  sys- 
tem trembled.  She  deeply  repented  the  step  she  had 
taken. 

Nothing  escaped  Saint  Aignan's  keen  eyes. 

He  too  trembled,  but  from  other  motives. 

If  the  duchesse  withdrew  too  soon,  his  game  might 
be  lost.  Hastily  forming  his  resolution,  he  approached 
Angeline  and  whispered: 

"Don't  you  wish  to  speak  to  the  unfortunate  man?" 

A  flush  of  shame  crimsoned  the  lady's  pale  face. 
The  presence  of  the  due,  by  whose  secret  mediation 
she  had  taken  a  step  so  dangerous  to  him  and  herself, 
urged  her  onward. 

But  her  terror  was  not  yet  conquered — and  pointing 
to  the  motionless  form,  she  asked  with  trembling  lips:  . 


-.  '   •  DREAMS    AND    ILLUSIONS  515 

"And  this  is — Gauthier  de  Montferrand?" 

"Yes,"  said  the  jailer  in  a  curt  cold  tone. 

"Then — wake  him,"  said  Angeline  de  Fontanges, 
"and — leave  us — alone  a  moment."  v" 

The  jailer,  who  had  already  been  bribed;  and  had 
himself  made  all  the  necessary  preparations  for 
Gauthier's  flight,  put  the  lamp  on  a  stone  table  and 
attempted  to  obey  the  command. 

"Wake!"  he  cried  rudely,  "wake,  somebody  wants  to 
speak  to  you!" 

And  he  shook  the  motionless  form. 

But  at  the  same  moment  he  stopped,  laid  his  hand 
on  the  man's  brow,  clasped  his  wrist,  looked  into  his 
face  and  at  last  said,  quietly,  turning  away: 

"He'll  never  wake  again — he's  dead." 

A  piercing  shriek  escaped  Angeline's  lips. 

"He's  dead!"  she  repeated   and    her    senses    failed. 
'     Tottering,  she  clung  to  St.  Aignan  for  support., 

"Dead!"  repeated  the  jailer,  secretly  rejoicing  that 
he  had  earned  so  much  money  without  being  compelled 
to  aid  the  fugitive's  escape. 

"Too  late!"  groaned  the  duchesse,  while  her  hands 
fell  feebly  by  her  side  as  if  she  had  heard  her  death 
sentence. 

She  stood  silently  with  closed  eyes  in  the  presence 
cf  fate,  like  a  criminal." 

"Galm  yourself!"  said  Saint  Aignan,  "perhaps  it  is. 
better  so." 

But  these  words  suddenly  opened   Angeline's  whole 


':9r  ■v.-j^i  ■-f^:-:. 


5l6  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  j 

i 

heart;  a  terrible  anguish,  the  sense  of  infinite  remorse 
overwhelmed  her,  and  — covering  her  face  with  lier 
hands — tears  gushed  from  her  eyes.  i 

"Oh!  God!  oh,  God!  so  I  am  really  his  murderess!" 
she  exclaimed.  And  utterly  forgetting  herself,  she 
sank  down  beside  Gauthier's  corpse,  seized  his  cold, 
rigid  hand  and  pressed  it  to  her  heart. 

The  fierce  surges  of  sorrow    had    washed    from    her 

-^soul  everything  that  had  occurred  since  her   departure 

from  Limagne.      Only  the  memories  of  her    childhood 

remained,  but—  all  these  memories   pierced   her  heart 

like  daggers. 

She  saw  herself  at  home;  she  saw  her  dear  faithful 
mother,  the  good  Pere  Helaire;  she  saw  by  her  side 
Gauthier,  the  loyal  playmate  who  had  loved  her  so 
truly,  seen  everything  with  her  eyes,  she  saw  the  fair 
days  which  she  had  spent  so  happily  in  her  innocent 
childhood — and  now? 

With  the  most  caressing  words  she  implored  Gau- 
thier to  wake.  She  shook  him,  she  shrieked  to  God 
to  recall  the  unfortunate  man  to  life. 

Then  she  again  sank  down  beside  the  cold,  lifeless 
corpse  and  in  the  most  pathetic  words  implored  the 
dead  man's  pardon  for  all  the  misery,  all  the  suffering, 
all  the  horrors  she  had  caused  him. 

"Oh!  forgive  me,  forgive  me,  Gauthier!  Forgive 
your  murderess!"  she  cried  in  heart-rending  tones — 
"forgive  her  for  sacrificing  your  beautiful  young  life, 
sacrificing  it  thus!     Oh!  hear  me,  Gauthier,  hear  me! 


'  r  - 


DREAMS    AND    ILLUSIONS  517 

open  your    eyes    once    more    to    see    my    repentance. 

"Gauthier!  Merciful  God!.  He  is  dead!  dead!  he 
no  longer  hears' or  sees  his  Angeline,  he  no  longer 
sees  her  writhing  in  the  dust  to  implore  his  forgive- 
ness for  having  broken  his  kind,  faithful  heart! 

"Yes,  7  have  broken  it!  It  was/ who  crushed  your 
beautiful  life,  and — I  cannot  restore  it  to  you." 

Suddenly,  close  beside  her,  there  was  a  cry  of:  "The 
king!" — and  with  the  words  the  gloom}'  room  grew 
bright  as  day.  *- 

The  duchesse  shrank  as  if  a  thunderbolt  had  fallen. 
She  could  not  regain  her  self-command. 

What  was  the  king  doing  here?  What,  whom  did 
he  seek? 

The  king!  It  required  the  exertion  of  all  her  mental 
powers  to  recall  herself  to  reality. 

But — to  be  found  thus!     She  uttered  a  cry  of  terror. 

Louis  XIV  stood  at  the  entrance  with  a  grave,  stern 
face,  at  his  side,  a  little  in  the  rear,  were  four  torch- 
bearers,  and  still  farther  back,  strangely  enough, 
several  nuns. 

"You  here,  madame?"  said  the  king  with  icy,  terrible 
coldness,  "we  did  not  expect  to  find  you  here." 

"Your  Majesty!"  replied  the  Duchesse  de  Fontanges, 
in  a  voice  trembling  with  grief.  "Your  Majesty  sees 
that  I  am  with  the  dead." 

"And  I  once  found  the  living  man  with  you." 

"I  came  here  to  bid  farewell  to  a  dj'ing  playmate — 
a  dear  relative.  " 


5l8  A    ROYAL    ROBBER        -  | 

"A  dying  man,  but  one  who — if  he  had  not  died— 
would  no  longer  be  here!  However,  we  will  let  that 
pass,  madame!  I  honor  and  respect  this  grief,  this 
truly  Christian  devotion  to  another's  fate — " 

"Sire!" 

"And  that  you  may  see,  madame,  that  I  am  not 
wicked  enough  to  interfere  with  your  natural  sorrow, 
your  pious  mood,  or  efface  this  deep  and  sacred  im- 
,  pression,  I  have  requested  the  holy  Abbess  of  the  con- 
vent of  Port  Royal,  in  the  suburb  of  Saint  Jacques, 
to  take  you  under  her  protection. 

And  the  king,  turning  to  the  sisters,  added:  "Do 
your  duty,  Abbess,"  and  preceded  by  the  torch- 
bearers  and  followed  by  Saint  Aignan,  left  the  dungeon. 

The  duchesse  uttered  a  piercing  shriek  and  sank 
fainting  into  the  arms  of  the  nuns. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

A  WITHERED  ROSE. 

A  death-like  stillness  brooded  over  the  convent  of 
Port  Royal  in  the  suburb  of  Saint  Jacques.  It  was 
the  abode  of  "penitents,"  and  many  a  repentant  heart 
indeed  looked  back  from  here  into  the  darkness,  shud- 
dered and — bled  in  secret. 

A  death-like  stillness  and  the  peace  of  a  church-yard 
pervaded  the  spot. 

And  was  not  this  convent  of  Port  Royal  indeed  a 
church-yard?  Only  the  grave-stones  wandered  about 
as  still,  pale,  shadowy  forms,  garbed  in  the  robes  of 
nuns.  But  beneath  each  of  these  moving  grave-stones 
was  a  heart  that  had  burnt  out  into  dust  and  ashes. 

The  cells  of  the  convent  of  Port  Royal  were  graves 
—only  one  apartment  in  the  spacious  building  formed 
a  strange  contrast  to  the  terrible  simplicity  and 
poverty  of  the  other  rooms. 

This  was  a  large  chamber,  whose  high,  narrow  win- 
dows opened  upon  the  inner  court-yard. 

The  floors  of  the  cells  were  composed  of  hard,  cold 

stones,  and  those  who  trod    them    had    bare    feet,  for 

they  were  "penitents." 

The  floor  of  this  apartment  was  covered  with  a  soft, 

519 


^  ■^~  ^v 


^O       ,  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  | 

rich  carpet,  such  as  had  probably  never  been   seen    liv 
any  convent  before. 

The  cells  of  the  convent  of  Port  Royal  contained 
wooden  beds,  which  were  often  strewn  with  thorns  and 
thistles,  for  those  who  used  them  were  "penitents." 

In  the  room  just  mentioned  was  a  costly  couch, 
richly  adorned  with  silk  and  lace. 

Throughout  the  spacious  convent  earthen  vessels 
were  used  for  food  and  drink.  The  occupant  of  this 
chamber  was  served  in  silver  dishes. 

The  walls  of  the  cells  were  bare;  embroidered  hang 
ings  covered  those  of  the  room. 

In  a  word,  it  was  richly  furnished,  and  three  times 
a  week  the  Due  de  la  Feuillade  drove  up  to  visit  the 
occupant,  and  in  the  name  of  His  Majesty,  the  King, 
inquire  for  her  health. 

But  indeed  her  state  of  health  was  bad  enough. 

A  pale,  emaciated  figure  lay  on  the  superb  couch 
in  the  magnificently  furnished  chamber.  It  was  Marie 
Angeline,  once  Mademoiselle  de  Fontanges,  afterwards 
the  all-powerful  duchesse,  radiant  in  beauty,  power 
and  splendor,  the  object  of  the  devotion  of  His  Maj- 
esty, Louis  XIV,  King  of  France. 

But  where  was  the  beauty  of  the  poor  child,  who 
had  not  yet  reached  her  twentieth  year? 

What  had  become  of  the  color  in  her  cheeks,  the 
freshness  of  her  complexion,  the  roundness  of  her 
limbs? 

Was  this   pale,  drooping    figure,  with    the    haggard 


A   WITHERED    ROSE  521 

cheeks  and  dim  eyes  red  with  weeping  the  haughty 
duchesse,  who  but  a  short  time  before  had  ruled  the 
heart  of  the  King  of  France  and  with  it  his  whole 
court,  who  had  passed  the  queen  without  a  salutation 
before  whom  bowed  dukes  and  duchesses,  princes  and 
princesses,  for  whose  favor  the  whole  court,  the  highest 
nobility,  vied  with  each  other? 

How  crushed,  how  broken  she  la}^ — this  early 
withered  rose! 

"How  incredibly  rapid  had  been  her  decline.  But  a 
fortnight  before,  the  abbess,  accompanied  b}'  two 
sisters  had  brought  her  senseless  to  the  convent  one 
dark  night — attended  only  by  a  single  maid. 

The  ver}'  first  night  her  maid  had  given  the  duch- 
esse, who  was  passing  from  one  fainting  fit  to  another, 
a  brown  liquid,  which  really  revived  her  and  threw 
her  into  a  sleep  that  lasted  nearly    twenty-four   hours. 

But  on  awakening  from  the  sleep  Angeline's  features 
were  strangely  altered.  Her  usually  dazzlingly  fair 
Complexion  had  assumed  a  sickly  \'ellow  hue.  Her 
nerves  were  so  relaxed,  her  mental  powers  so  en- 
feebled, her  mind  so  stupefied,  that  she  spent  whole 
days  without  tears,  gazing  rigidly  into  vacanc}^  as  if 
her  thoughts  were  far  away.  Her  arms  hung  loosel)^  b}- 
her  side,  her  feet  seemed  paralyzed,  dizziness  bewild- 
ered her,  the  pupils  of  her  eyes  were  contracted  to  an 
almost  invisible  size,  and  her  pulse  was  nearl)-  imper- 
ceptible. 

She  did  not  utter  a  word.      Her  silence  seemed   the 


522  A   ROYAL   ROBBER 

echo  of  the  death-like  stillness  that  pervaded  the  whole 
convent  of  "penitents." 

This  condition,  however,  was  soon  followed  by  other 
alarming  symptoms:  terrible  headaches,  rapid  emacia- 
tion, and  loss  of  physical  and  mental  power. 

The  maid  no  longer  left  her  mistress  bed-side.  She 
took  so  warm  an  interest  in  her  that  she  even  coun- 
selled her  not  to  summon  a  physician,  since  in  these 
evil,  corrupt  days  nobod}'  was  to  be  trusted,  especially 
by  those  who  had  powerful  enemies. 

But  the  illness  daily  increased,  she  grew  weaker  and 
weaker,  and  soon  felt — that  she  was  dying.  '. 

And  strangely  enough,  with  this  conviction,  her 
mind  grew  calmer,  especially  in  regard  to  Gauthier. 

"I  shall  atone  for  the  sin  I  have  committed  against 
him  by  my  own  death!"  she  thought. 

But  the  misfortune  that  had  so  suddenly  overtaken 
her,  also  tore  the  bandage  from  her  eyes. 

Her  fall  was  terrible,  and  when  she  now  found  her- 
self lying  crushed  in  the  abyss — buried  alive  in  the 
gloom  and  solitude  of  a  convent — the  dream  she  had 
once  had  in  Limagne,  and  which  the  good  Pere  Hiliare 
had  interpreted  as  a  warning  sent  by  God,  returned  to 
her  memory. 

Her  tears  streamed  forth  again,  but — this  time  they 
were  precious  pearls,  for  they  flowed  from  sincere 
repentance  for  her  former  life. 

Oh!  Thou  Merciful  God!  A  last  ray  of  sunlight 
illumined  the  darkness  of  her  soul — Pere  Hilaire  stood 
by  her  bedside. 


A  WITHERED    ROSE  523 

He  had  followed  the  course  of  her  life  and  remained 
near  her,  because  he  knew  how  it  must  end.  Be- 
sides, Gauthier's  fate  had  detaind  him  in  Paris.  But 
what  could  the  poor  old  priest  do  for  the  unfortunate 
man?  \ 

To  kneel  before  the  king  and  implore  pardon  for  Gau- 
thier  would  have  instantly  placed  him  also  in  the  Bas- 
tile.  Yet  Pere  Hilaire  was  not  intimidated,  he  tried  in 
every  possible  way  to  alleviate  Gauthier's  fate,  but  in 
vain.  The  king's  anger  had  spoken,  and  this  was  the 
sentence  of  inexorable  Minos.  - 

Angeline's  last  visit  to  Gauthier,  of  which  he  heard, 
as  well  as  the  poor  girl's  fate,  had  reconciled  him  to 
his  long  blinded  pupil. 

He  requested  the  favor  of  giving  his  former  charge 
the  last  consolations  of  the  church — and  it  was  granted. 

Louis  XIV,  the  "great"  king,  was  now  very  com- 
plaisant— he  felt  infinitely  relieved,  that  the  rose 
chains  which  had  bound  him  to  the  Duchesse  de 
Fontanges  had  been  so  easily  stripped  off,  and — had 
another  conquest  in  view,  that  of  the  clever  Marquise  de 
Maintenon. 

Angeline — feeling  the  approach  of  death — had  thrice 
besought  the  king,  as  a  last  favor,  to  let  her,  who  had 
loved  him  so  fondly,  so  unutterably,  see  his  dear  face 
once  more. 

But  the  king  would  not  listen.  Even  the  thought 
of  being  obliged  to  visit  a  dying  person  was  extremely 
painful  and  unpleasant  to  him,  and  Louis  XIV  did  not 


..£i^^ 


524  A    ROYAL    ROBBER         /  i  - 

like    to    meet    with    anything    unpleasant    in    his    life. 

He  did  not  come. 
-Then  Angeline  sent  the  fourth  time.  , 

This  time  also  the  monarch  refused;  but  his  con- 
fessor— doubtless  in  the  hope  that  the  sight  of  the 
dying  girl  would  have  a  good  influence  upon  the  mind 
of  the  too  worldly  monarch — at  last  induced  him  to 
pay  the  visit. 

Louis  XIV  had  therefore  promised  to  come  to  the 
convent  of  Port  Royal  that  morning. 

A  death-like  stillness  pervaded  the  convent  of  the 
penitents,  and  a  death-like  stillness  also  brooded  over 
the  room  occupied  by  the  dying  girl. 

Angeline,  amid  burning  tears  of  deep,  heartfelt  re- 
pentance, had  made  her  confession  to  Pere  Hilaire 
and  received  absolution. 

The  priest  had  prayed  fervently  with  her — no  Latin, 
no  church  prayers,  but  such  as  were  prompted  by  his 
fatherly  love  for  his  erring  daughter. 

Angeline  was  lying  silent — the  mental  exertion  had 
exhausted  her  last  strength  but  a  peaceful  smile  flitted 
over  her  features,  the  reflection  of  the  peace  that  had 
filled  her  soul  during  the  last  hour.  , 

Only  Pere  Hilaire  was  present,  and  he  was  praying 
silently  over  his  breviary. 

The  maid  was  standing  In  the  corridor,  awaiting  His 
Majesty's  arrival  with  a  throbbing  heart.  One  could 
not  say  that  peace  pervaded  her  soul.  Half  an  hour 
before  she  had  concealed  with  almost    anxious  haste  a 


A   WITHERED    ROSE  :  5^5 

silver  goblet,  from  which  she  often   gave    the    invalid 
something  to  drink. 

She  was  agitated,  very  much  agitated  and — excite- 
ment also  pervaded  the  usually  quiet  convent — all 
were  expecting  the  visit  of  His  Majesty,  the  King. 

At  last  he  appeared.  Like  his  suite,  he  was  attired 
in  mourning. 

There  was  something  majestic  in  his  grave,  dignified 
bearing,  and  majesty  was  also  enthroned  upon  the 
handsome  face. 

His  head,  as  usual,  was  covered  with  a  huge  peruke, 
but  not — and  this  was  verj^  significant — ^b}^  the  broad 
brimmed  hat  with  three  floating  white  plumes. 

Louis  XIV  removed  it  as  he  approached  the  dying 
girl. 

His  train  had  of  course  entered  with    bared    heads. 

Only  one  of  the  king's  constant  attendants  was 
absent — the  Due  de  Saint  Aignan.  He  had  begged  to 
be  excused  on  the  plea  of  sudden  illness. 

The  king  gently  approached;  but  when  he  saw  the 
face,  which  but  a  short  time  before  he  had  so  passion- 
ately loved,  which  had  bloomed  before  him  in  health 
and  beauty  so  radiant  that  it  seemed  as  if  they  could 
never  fade,  he  turned  pale. 

The  change  in  Angeline's  features  was  so  great,  that 
it  was  difficult  for  Louis  to  recognize  the  former  object 
of  his  love.  Her  pallor,  her  haggard  cheeks,  her  sad, 
dim  eyes,  which  still  beamed  with  love,  moved  him 
so  powerfully,  that — tears  filled  his  own. 


526  A    ROYAL    ROBBER 

Then  an  indescribably  gentle,  angelic  smile  flitted 
over  the  features  of  the  dying  girl  and,  making  a  great 
effort  to  raise  herself,  she  said,  extending  her  little 
emaciated  hand  to  the  king:  1 

"Oh!  now  I  can  die  content,  since  my  last  moments 
have  seen  the  tears  of  my  king." 

"Don't  talk  so,  Madame  la  Duchesse, "  replied  the 
king,  in  a  low,  tremulous  tone,  "you  will  not  die,  and 
when  you  are  well  again — " 

"Not  so,  Sire,"  murmured  Angeline,  "I  already  feel 
death's  cold  breath.  But  just  because  I  know — that  I 
shall  not  survive  this  day — I  earnestly  entreated  Your 
Majesty — for  the  favor — " 

"Don't  tax  your  strength!" 

"Of  a  visit." 

"Which  was  willingly  granted." 

The  dying  girl  cast  a  long  affectionate  glance  at  the 
king. 

"Sire!"  she  said,  "I  have  loved  Your  Majesty — in- 
finitely— and — Gauthier  de  Montferrand — I  swear  in 
this  solemn  hour  before  the  omniscient  God — was 
only  my  friend — my  relative — the  playmate  of  my 
childhood." 

"Let  this  pass,"  said  Louis  with  a  somewhat  clouded 
brow.    "God  himself  has  decided.    Peace  to  his  ashes!" 

"And — Sire — if  I  have  ever  angered — offended — " 

"What  folly,  Madame  la  Duchesse!  We  are  all 
human,  and  have  our  passions.  Ask  any  favor,  and 
we  will  show  you  how  highly  we  still  prize  you/* 


i 


A   WITHERED    ROSE  ?■■  52/ 

Tears  filled  Angeline's  eyes.  A  heavy  sigh  escaped 
her  lips,  then  she  said: 

"For  myself — I  have  but  one  favor  to  implore  and — • 
that  is — the  mercy — of  God.  But  will  Your  Majesty 
remember  my  old  mother— Pare  Hilaire — and — my 
good  Barbezieux — "  she  looked  at  the  maid,  who  was 
supporting  her  on  the  pillows. 

"We  will!"  said  the  king  in  a  firm,  grave  tone. 

Su(ddenly  death  approached  and  threw  his  dark  veil 
over  the  dying  girl's  eyes.  She  moaned — her  fingers 
plucked  strangely  at  the  silk  coverlid. 

"Then  I  shall  die  in  peace,"  faltered  Angeline,  as 
her  head  fell  gently  back. 

"We  will  go!"  said  the  king,  "this  excitement  is  too 
much  for  the  poor  girl,"  and  making  the  sign  of  the 
cross  over  the  dying  form,  he  turned  and  left  the  room 
with  his  train.^ 

Again     a     death-like      silence     prevailed.      Earthly 
\i    majesty  had  left  the  room — the  majesty  of   death  had 
entered. 

Pere  Hilaire  murmured  in  an  undertone  the  Latin 
prayers  prescribed  by  the  church. 

Angeline's  eyes  grew  fixed  and  glassy.      Her  fingers 
u;;     still  played  with  the  coverlid. 

'y-'        "Gauthier!"  she  murmured  faintly,  "Gauthier — don't 

?      hurry — me — so — I'm — coming— oh! — the     mountain — 

the  cloud — woe,  woe,  betide  me!      It  is  growing  dark." 

"Not  yet!"  said  the  old  priest.,  no  longer  able  to 
restrain  his    tears,    bending    over    Angeline,    "God    is 


528  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  i        ' 

gracious  and  merciful!  God  is  love,  and  love  is  light 
and  happiness!" 

"Love!"  said  the  dying  girl  almost  Inaudibly,  "yes — 
love — is  light — and  happiness." 

"Amen!"  said  the  priest. 

"Amen!  "  whispered  Angeline. 

Then  the  faint  notes  of  an  organ  echoed  through 
the  air,  followed  by  a  soft,  yet  melancholy  chant. 

The  nuns  were  imploring  God  to  grant  the  dying 
girl  an  easy  passage  to  eternity. 

And  her  death  was  easy.  He  kissed  Angeline  on  the 
brow — a  loud  moan — a  convulsive  quiver  then — a 
stretching  of  the  limbs,  and  Marie  Angeline,  Duchesse 
de  Fontanges — was  no  more! 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE    RULE    OF    NEMESIS.  - 

/ 

All  Paris  was  in  a  state  of  feverish  excitement;  but 
not  about  the  death  of  the  charming  young  Duchesse 
de  Fontanges;  the  latter  had  speedily  been  forgotten 
at  court,  while  the  people  actually  rejoiced  over  the 
ruin  of  one  whose  pride,  vanity,  and  love  of  pleasure 
had  lured  the  king  to  the  most  unprecedented  ex- 
penses. 

Besides  the  nation  was  accustomed  to  the  rise  and 
fall  of  the  objects  of  the  king's  love,  and  the  Parisians 
with  true  French  frivolity,  laughingly  asked  each 
other:     "Well,  who  will  take  the  helm  now?" 

Angeline  de  Fontanges  had  bloomed  and  charmed 
the  eye  for  a  few  spring  days,  like  a  beautiful  fragrant 
rose,  and  then,  overtaken  by  a  sudden  storm,  quickly 
withered.  The  rush  of  new  events  effaced  her  memory, 
as  the  storms  of  nature  blow  rose  leaves  away. 

Her  pride  and  vanity  had  made  her  think  only  of 
herself;  why  should  others  now  think  of  her? 

Besides  the  news  of  more    important    things,  which 

nearly  concerned  the  court  and  a  large   number  of  the 

citizens  of  Paris,  had  arrived  at  the  same  time  as  the 

tidings  of  the  duchesse's    death — things    which    made 

34  539 


53©  \,  A  ROYAL  ROBBER  i 

the  worthy  Parisian's  hair  stand  on  end,  and  filled  them 
with  that  thrill  of  pleasurable  horror,  which  the  dis- 
covery of  a  great  crime  exerts  upon  the  majority  of 
mankind. 

All  Paris — as  has  already  been  mentioned — was  in  a 
state  of  feverish  excitement,  for  as  the  cases  of  secret 
poisoning  had  lately  reached  a  truly  alarming  number, 
a  court  for  the  discovery  of  such  crimes — the  Chambre 
arden/e— had  not  only  been  appoin|:ed  by  the  king 
himself — but  had  actually  detected  and  arrested  the 
prepetrator  in  the  person  of  La  Voisin,  the  fortune- 
teller, and  her  confederates. 

What  noble  names  were  compromised;  what  victims 
had  succumbed  to  this  band  of  criminals,  to  whom 
belonged  La  Voisin's  assistant  Vigoureaux,  and — the 
world  heard  it  with  horror — the  priests,  Lesage  'and 
d*Auvaux. 

The  most  horrible  things  were  whispered  abroad;  but 
— the  Chambre  ardente  remained  silent,  like  the  terri- 
ble subterranean  chambers  of  torture.  Yet  it  was 
ascertained  that  several  persons  belonging  to  the 
court  had  been  brought  before  the  tribunal,  among 
them  the  Duchesse  de  Bouillon  and  Marshal  de  Luxem- 
bourg. 

Something  was  also  said  to  have  been  discovered  in 
regard  to  the  Marquise  de  Montespan,  and  the  names 
of  Saint  Aignan  and  his  relative,  the  Cardinal,  v/ere 
mixed  into  the  affair.  The  two  latter  were  charged 
with   a  blasphemous  raising  of  the  devil,  which  they 


I 


w:I  THE   RULE   OF  NEMESIS  53I 

had  undertaken  with  La  Voisin's  aid,  and  who  was 
asserted  to  have  brought  the  due  and  cardinal  boundless 
wealth. 

Saint  Aignan  laughed  at  the  story,  made  all  sorts  of 
jokes  about  it,  and  continued  to  be  the  king's  prime 
favorite.  The  Comtesse  de  Soissons,  in  whom  His 
Majesty  had  always  lelt  much  interest,  yielded  to  his 
wish  and  withdrew  to  Brussels  for  the  benefit  of  her 
health.  The  Duchesse  de  Bouillon  and  Franz  Hein- 
rich  de  Montmorency-Bouteville,  duke,  peer  and  Mar- 
shal of  France,  who  bore  the  name  of  Montmorency 
united  with  that  of  the  imperial  House  of  Luxembourg 
— were  acquitted. 

The  good  Parisians  laughed  and  made  jokes  over  it 

Of  course  the  state  of  the  case  was  far  different  with 
La  Voisin  and  her  accomplices.  Here  Nemesis  did 
not  shrink  from  grasping  her  victims  with  a  firm  hold 
and  leading  them  to  well-merited  punishment. 

To-day  — on  the  day  of  the  death  of  the  poor  Duch- 
esse de  Fontanges,  who  it  was  darkly  rumored  had 
also  been  poisoned — all  Paris  was  violently  excited  by 
the  announcement  of  the  sentence  of  the  Chambre 
ardente. 

The  verdict  of  the  court  was:  that  La  Voisin  should 
be  burned  alive,  Vigoureux  hanged,  and  the  two 
priests,  Lesage  and  d'Auvaux,  suffocated. 

The  news  made  a  deep  impression  upon  all  the 
citizens  of  Paris.  They  thanked  God  for  this  decision 
Qi  the  court  whose  execution  they  might  hope    would 


532  -       A   ROYAL   ROBBER  1- 

not  only  cause  the  destruction  of  the  whole  band  of 
murderers,  but  forever  prevent  the  recurrence  of  such 
cririles. 

Of  course  the  only  subject  discussed  in  the  court 
and  city  was  this  cause  c^lebre,  but — at  the  court  as 
well  as  in  the  city — many  hearts  throbbed  and  trem- 
bled, counting  the  seconds  up  to  the  time  of  the  exe- 
cution of  the  criminals,  because  each  moment  they  had 
cause  to  dread  the  betrayal  of  their  own  crimes  by 
these  their  accomplices. 

"But  their  terror  did  not  seem  to  be  justified.  Vig- 
oureux  had  first  been  tried.  She  had  either  remained 
silent  throughout  the  examinations  or  stoutly  denied 
all  accusations;  but  when  she  was  condemned  she  sent 
word  to  Monseigneur  Louvois,  that  she  would  disclose 
the  most  important  things,  if  he  would  spare  her  life. 

Louvois  replied :  •  ' 

"Pshaw!      Torture  will  loosen  her  tongue." 

But  the  powerful  Minister  of  France  was  mistaken. 
When  Vigoureux  received  the  marquis'  answer,  she 
replied  quietly: 

"Very  well,  then  the  wise  gentleman  will  learn 
nothing." 

And  in  fact — such  energy  did  this  corrupt  woman 
possess — Vigoureux  endured  all  degrees  of  horrible 
torture  without  uttering  a  word.  She  was  thrown 
naked  on  her  back  upon  a  table  with  her  hands  and 
feet  fastened  to  the  floor  and  the  table  was  raised  up- 
ward by  screws  till  all  her  joints  were  nearly  wrenched 


^  '         THE    RULE    OF    NEMESIS  -        535 

asunder  and  blood  started  from    under    the    nails,  the 
mouth,  eyes,  ear  and  nose. 

Vigoureux  did  not  utter  a  word. 

Matches  were  burned  under  her  arms  and  on  her 
body.  She  writhed — as  much  as  her  bands  permitted 
— like  a  worm,  but — did  not  utter  a  word  of  confession. 
She  was  burned  with  hot  pincers — and  was  silent  but 
her  eyes  shot  basilisk  glances. 

The  resoluteness  was  the  more  amazing,  as  the 
doctor  more  than  once  declared  that  the  horrible  torture 
must  be  stopped,  or  the  criminal  would  die. 

What  terrible  delusion  of  mind,  dishonoring  to  all 
humanity!  What  hardness  of  the  heart!  What  mis- 
taken legal  ideas!  The  judges  appointed  to  mete  out 
justice  and  punish  human  crimes  humanely,  become — 
while  condemning  murder — murderers  themselves,  and 
those  who  were  tortured  were  not  always  murderers, 
but  often  innocent  people. 

On  reaching  the  Place  de  Gr6ve  the  following  day 
Vigoureux  sent  for  the  magistrates. 

The  latter  hurried  to  the  spot,  hoping  at  last  to 
obtain  some  confessions  from  this  condemned  woman; 
but  Vigoureux  with  one  foot  alread)'  on  the  steps  of 
the  scaffold,  said  the  following  words: 

"Gentlemen,  be  kind  enough  to  tell  the  Marquis  de 
Louvois  that  I  am  his  most  humble  servant,  and — 
have  kept  my  promise  to  him;  perhaps  he  would  not 
have  done  so  to  me!" 

Then  she  turned  to  the  executioner,  exclaiming: 


534  .A    ROYAL    Rt)BBER  I    ^^       . 

i      ■■      "  '   ■'■ 

"Now,  my  friend,  do  your  duty!"  :  > 

She  went  up  the  steps  of  the  scaffold  and  aided  the 
executioner  in  his  business,  as  well  as  her  tortured 
body  would  permit.  1 

A  few  moments  after  a  dark  life  was  ended. 


When  the  story  of  Vigoureux's  death,  with  all  the 
circumstances  attending  it,  was  related  to  La  Voisin, 
the  latter  said:  " 

"I  recognize  her  true  character  in  that;  she  was  a 
brave  girl,  but  she  made  a  mistake;  I  shall  tell  every- 
thing that  concerns  me." 

But  her  course  was  of  no  more  avail  than  that  of 
her  fellow-criminal.  When  the  former  was  stretched 
upon  the  rack,  she  confessed  many  things,  but — her 
tormentors  wanted  to  know  more,  and  as  she  could 
tell  nothing  farther,  poured  combustible  fluids  over 
her  and  ignited  them.  To  escape  hearing  her  horrible 
shrieks  of  agony,  a  gag  was  placed  in  her  mouth. 
'  Thus  the  fury  of  her  judges  made  her  endure  every 
extremity  of  torture. 

Nemesis,  the  gloomy  goddess  of  vengeance,  triumph- 
antly swung  her  dark  rod.  ; 

The  next  day — after  witnessing  the  strangling  of  the 
two  accomplices,  the  priests,  Lesage  and  d'Auvaux — 
she  was  dragged  to  the  place  of  execution.  Here, 
wlien  placed  on  a  pile  of  wood,  an  attempt  was  made 
to   cover  her  with  straw,  but  La  Voisin  in  her  horrible 


THE    RULE    OF    NEMESIS  535 

death  agony  pushed  executioners  and  straw  away 
several  times — till  her  strength  failed. 

The  straw  and  wood  were  now  quickly  lighted,  and 
the  flames  blazed  above  the  unhappy  wretch. 

When  the  heap  of  wood  fell  the  ashes  were  scattered 
in  all  directions. 

The  world  was  delivered  from  four  horrible  wretches. 

Strassburg  had  fallen — Louvois  summoned  his 
sovereign  to  make  a  formal  entry  and  receive  the 
homage  of  the  conquered  city. 

Though  Louis  XIV  had  expected  the  summons  it  was 
doubJy  welcome. at  this  moment. 

The  very  next  day,  the  king,  attended  by  his  whole 
court,  set  out  for  Alsace. 


i-i':U, 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  CONSECRATION  OF  THE  ROBBEFY, 

A  wonderfully  beautiful  October  day  smiled  upon 
the  earth.  The  sky  was  so  blue  and  clear,  that  it 
recalled  the  memory  of  Italy,  and  the  sun  shone  so 
brightly  that  the  heart  of  every  worthy  human  being 
would  have  swelled  with  delight,  if — yes,  if  men  did 
not  often  make  the  Paradise  of  earth  a  hell  to  each 
other. 

There  stood  the  city,  illumined  by  the  sunlight, 
while  deep  sorrow  and  mourning  filled  the  hearts  of 
a  larger  portion  of  its  inhabitants. 

The  bells  rang  solemnly,  the  houses  were  richly 
adorned,  flags  waved  from  the  cathedral ;  but  only  a 
few  of  the  citizens  of  Strassburg  could  endure  to-day 
to  raise  their  eyes  to  the  superb  edifice,  for  there — 
high  above  the  flags  of  the  city — floated  the  proud  ban- 
ner of  France.  The  streets  and  squares  were  crowded 
with  gaily  dressed  people  but  only  a  few  were  natives 
of  Strassburg;  the  majority  had  flocked  in  from  the 
country,  from  Alsace  and  the  neighboring  provinces  of 
France.  Louvois  had  even  secretly  directed  that  all 
French  cities  and  parishes  in  the  vicinity  must  send  a   ' 

certain  number  of  their  inhabitants. 

536  i 


;':^^- 


THE  CONSECRATION  OF  THE  ROBBERY  '      5^7 

Thus  to-day  Strassburg  presented  an  animated  scene, 
although  most  of  the  citizens  remained  quietly  in  their 
houses.  Nay,  the  throngs  even  wore  a  joyful  appear- 
ance, as  the  numerous  French  subjects  certainly  had 
plenty  of  cause  to  consider  the  day  one  of  true  rejoic- 
ing and  victory.  To-day  .  .  .  to-day  the  ceremonious 
entry  of  the  King  of  France  into  Strassburg  and  the 
occupation  of  this  important  place  were  to  occur. 

But  each  individual  Frenchman  seemed  to  himself  a 
conqueror,  and  gazed  proudly  at  the  beautiful  city, 
which  was  henceforth  to  be  incorporated  with  France. 
And  the  proud  presumption  of  the  French  was  also 
increased  by  a  new  rumor  of  victor}',  which  spread 
like  an  alarm  of  fire.  It  was  the  news  that  on  the  very 
day  of  the  fall  of  Strassburg,  the  key  of  Germany,  the 
king's  troops  had  captured  the  fortress  of  Casale, 
called  the  key  of  Italy.  This  capture  seemed  the  first 
step  towards  paving  the  way  for  Louis  XIV  to  ob- 
tain the  mastery  of  Italy.  The  French  exulted,  the 
fame  of  the  "great  king"  flew  from  lip  to  lip;  his 
subjects  already  saw  a  road  opened  to  a  universal  mon- 
archy with  the  ruler  of  France  at  its  head,  the  world 
belonged  to  French  and  Frenchmen. 

Thousands  of  people  surged  through  the  streets, 
especially  around  the  house  of  the  new  French  gov- 
ernor of  the  city,  the  Marquis  de  Chamilli  one  shout 
of  "Long  live  the  king;  long  live  the  conqueror  of 
Strassburg  and  Casale!"  followed  another. 

But  every  such  shout  was   a  dagger  in   the  hearts  of 


538  A   ROYAL   ROBBER  j 

the  Strassburg  patriots,  and  many  now  envied  the 
poor  little  tailor  Wenck,  who — sleeping  in  Mother 
Earth — no  longer  saw  or  heard  what  was  passing 
here. 

Syndicus  Frantz  and  his  family  suffered  most  deeply. 

Terrible  tidings  constantly  assailed  them:  now  that- 
the  fate  of  the  city  was  decided  and  Catholic  France 
had  obtained  the  mastery,  the  long  ripening  fruit  of 
treason  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  government.  A  num- 
ber of  the  first  families— principally  belonging  to  the 
magistracy — loudly  and  publicly  declared  their  will- 
ingness to  serve  France  in  any  way,  and — wished  to 
join  the  Catholic  church. 

At  the  head  of  these  cowardly  and  doubly  bribed 
apostates  were  the  names  of  Giinzer,  Stosser,  Zedlitz, 
Obrecht,  Hecker,  Frischmann,  etc.  Of  course  ihe 
most  brilliant  rewards  were  bestowed  upon  such  noble 
deeds.  Giinzer  had  already — while  retaining  posses- 
sion of  his  former  offices  with  their  revenues — been 
appointed  Syndicus  General  of  the  city  and  Kannzlel 
Director.  A  new  and  lucrative  post  was  created  for 
Hecker,  that  of  a  royal  Stadtrichter  (une  charge  de 
Lieutenant  priteur  royal). 

A  few  days  before,  Prince  Franz  Egon  of  Fiirsten- 
berg,  bishop  of  Strassburg,  had  entered  the  city  with 
truly  royal  pomp. 

Franz  Egon,  the  holy  man,  came  from  Zaberne, 
which  since  the  Reformation  had  been  the  residence 
of  the  bishop  of    Strassburg,  in    triumph    back  to    the 


THE  CONSECRATION  OF  THE  ROBBERY        539 

old  bishopric,  to  resume  possesion  of  the  superb  ca- 
thedral. 

He  came — not  as  a  modest  announcer  of  the  gospel 
of  love — but  a  haughty  conqueror,  armed  with  worldly 
and  ecclesiastical  power,  firmly  resolved  if  possible 
to  crush  out  the  last  trace  of  Protestantism  in  Strass- 
burg. 

In  the  eight  equipages,  among  others,  were  Prince 
Wilhelm,  Count  Maximilian,  and  Philip  Eberhard 
von  Lowenstein,  Count  Salm,  Count  Felix  of  Fiirsten- 
berg,  and  Barons  Roswurn  Lerchenfeld,  Elsenheim, 
von  Waugen,  and  finally  the  Prince  Bishop's  civil  and 
ecclesiastical  officers. 

Thus  Franz  Egon,  .amid  the  thunder  of  cannon  and 
ringing  of  bells,  entered  Strassburg  between  lines  of 
French  troops  and  heralded  by  the  blare  of  trumpets, 
but — amid  total  silence  on  the  part  of  the  people,  only 
the  inhabitants  of  the  surrounding  country,  and  the 
lowest  classes  of  citizens,  had  added  their  contingent 
to  the  mute  and  sullen  crowd. 

But  the  cathedral,  whose  possession  had  been  so 
long  striven  for  by  such  shameful  means,  was  to  be 
occupied  immediately. 

The  bishop's  triumphal  procession  moved  directly 
towards  the  superb  monument  of  the  immortal  Erevin 
von  Steinbach,  the  pride  of  Strassburg,  the  ancient 
cathedral. 

Here,  at  the  principal  entrance,  saluted  by  the  troops 
and  greeted  by  twenty-one  salvos  of  artillery,  the  new 


A  ■-■>;i^ki*iivUT..-- ■ .'.' 


540  A   ROYAL   ROBBER  j       /^ 

French  governor,  the  Marquis  de  Chamilli,  received 
the  prince  of  the  church,  delivering  the  cathedral  to 
him  in  the  name  of  His  Majesty,  Louis  XIV,  king  of 
France. 

When  this  great  moment  was  over,  Prince  Franz 
Egon  went  to  the  palace  of  his  sister,  the  Margravine 
of  Baden,  which  had  been  superbly  fitted  up  for  him. 
A  captain  of  the  royal  troops,  with  sixty  men,  formed 
his  body  guard  by  Louvois'  express  comrnand. 

Scarcely  had  the  holy  man  alighted  from  his  car- 
riage, when  Lieutenant  General  Baron  de  Visat,  com- 
mander of  the  fifteen  thousand  French  troops  in  Strass- 
burg,  paid  his  respects,  with  all  the  French  nobles 
who  had  arrived.  The  magistrates  also  sent  a  dele- 
gation, which  was  of  course  composed  of  men  like 
Gunzer,  Stosser,  Obrecht,  and  others  of  similar  views, 
who — traitors  to  their  religion  and  country — heartily 
congratulated  the  victorious  bishop  upon  the  posses- 
sion of  the  cathedral. 

The  cathedral  was  superbly  decorated  and  adorned 
with  banners,  the  bishop's  train  imposing  in  its  splen- 
dor. But — it  was  also  necessary  to  display  the  mediae- 
val magnificence  of  the  Catholic  church,  the  blame- 
worthiness of  Protestant  heresy. 

Banners  waved,  incense  floated  on  the  air,  choirs 
sang,  maidens  attired  in  white  preceded  the  train, 
while  in  the  midst  of  the  ecclesiastical  dignitaries,  sur- 
rounded by  the  whole  chapter,  attended  by  the  assist- 
ant bishops,  the  Prince   of  Nassau,  the  grand  vicar  of 


-;  .  ,     THE  CONSECRATION  OF  THE  ROBBERY       54T 

the  purple  robed  canons,  the  Prince  Bishop  Franz 
Egon  of  Furstenberg  entered  the  cathedral,  in  order, 
first  of  all,  to  perform  the  great  act  of  exorcism,  that 
is  to  expel  the  demon  of  heresy  from  the  sacred  place. 
Then  followed  the  joyous  ceremonial  of  a  new  conse- 
cration and  the  first  masses  at  the  seven  hastily  erected 
altars. 

The  majority  of  the  citizens  of  Strassburg  naturally 
remained  absent  from  these  ceremonies,  only  the  apos- 
tates, with  cowardly  servility  and  the  desire  to  be 
seen,  pressed  forward  with  redoubled  zeal,  as  well  as 
a  ^ew  of  the  lowest  class,  who  were  anxious  to  witness 
the  spectacle. 

But  who  could  describe  the  sorrow  and  mourning 
which  during  these  hours  oppressed  so  many  loyal 
Protestant  hearts? 

AH  Stassburg  felt  a  common  sorrow  but, — it  was  a 
deep  anguish  of  the  soul,  anguish  which  the  German 
nation  inherited,  and  which  has  now  lasted  for  almost 
two  centuries. 

Sharp  was  the  contrast  between  the  grave,  repressed 
sorrow  of  the  citizens  and  the  enthusiasm  displayed 
by  the  conquerors. 

The  fifteen  thousand  men  under  Lieutenant  General 
Baron  de  Visat's  command  already  stood  formed  in 
two  lines  in  the  streets,  but  behind  the  ranks  a  vast 
crowd  surged  to  and  fro,  while  others  were  endeavor- 
ing to  obtain  a  good  position  to  see  the  king  pass. 

Strassburg — good  old  German  ,  Strassburg — had    to- 


^ 


■^Tg^ 


542  /A    ROYAL    ROBBER  1 

day  for  the  first  time  assumed  the  character  of  a  French 
city,  since  on  every  side  nothing  was  heard  but  that 
language,  nothing  was  seen  but  French  faces — only 
the  cry:  Viva  le  Roi!  Vive  le  vainqueur  de  Stras- 
burg  et  CassaleT   rang  on  the  air. 

Every  honest  patriot  felt  that  he  was  standing  by 
the  grave  of  the  old  freedom,  and  the  present  festival 
— was  a  funeral. 

Hours  elapsed  and  the  king  did  not  appear. 

The  impatience  of  the  crowd  increased  every  mo^ 
ment. 

One  mounted  messenger  after  another  was  sent  to- 
wards Vitry,  from  whence  the  king  would  approach 
with  his  train  ;  but  even  on  the  frontier  nothing  was 
to  be  seen  of  the  triumphal  procession. 

At  last — it  was  nearly  eleven  o'clock — rockets  ap- 
peared in  the  distance.  4      M 

Couriers,  covered  with  sweat  and  dust,  darted  to 
the  city,  bringing  news  to  the  magistrates  that  His 
Majesty  was  approaching.  A  new  thrill  ran  through 
the  throng,  all  the  bells  in  the  city  began  to  ring  and 
the  cannon  thundered  from  the  walls. 

At  last!  At  last!  The  city  was  gained  and  Louis 
XIV  entered. 

"Vive  le  Roi!"   thundered  on  the  air. 

"Vive  le  vainqueur  de  Strassburg  et  Casale!  "  was 
the  answering  shout. 

Immense  bodies  of  troops  formed  the  vanguard  of 
the  procession,  followed    by  an  endless    succession    of 


THE  CONSECRATION  OF  THE  ROBBERY        543 

the  various  officers  of  the  court,  constantly  interrupted 
by  mounted  divisions  of  cuirassiers,  trumpeters,  heralds 
and  ofHcials  of  lower  rank. 

All  glittered  with  a  pomp  that  could  scarcely  be 
described,  a  splendor  whose  brilliancy  was  increased  by 
the  superb  weather. 

And  this  magnificence  became  greater  in  proportion 
to  the  vicinity  of  His  Majesty,  until  at  last  the  king's 
equipage,  drawn  by  eight  horses,  appeared  with  the 
scarcely  less  costly  carriages  of  the  various  members 
of  the  royal  family. 

His  Majesty,  Louis  XIV,  King  of  France,  was  ac- 
companied by  Her  Majesty  the  Queen,  the  dauphin 
and  dauphiness,  monsieur  and  madame,  and  all  the 
lords  and  ladies  of  the  court  and  kingdom. 

Then  came  all  the  equipages,  horses  and  servants 
belonging  to  the  courtiers,  together  with  the  pages 
and  officials  of  the  royal  household,  and  finally  more 
bodies  of  troops. 

In  fact  this  imposing  procession  lasted  nearly  two 
hours. 

And  the  bells  still  rang,  the  cannon  thundered,  the 
trumpets  blared,  the  shouts  of  the  crowds  rent  the  air. 

But  in  many  houses  the  windows— even  while  the 
procession  was  passing — remained  closed — closed  like 
the  hearts,  which  the  King  of  France  alienated  still 
farther  by  the  order  that,  during  his  stay  in  Strassburg 
no  Protestant  should  be  permitted  to  visit  the  cathe- 
dral, and  the  citizens  should  be  forbidden,  on  pain  of 


_.•-; ; ' ■'^^^'' ^' '■  ■>;,^'7^^.<r-^-*''-7;^ij;::^~-^;i^r'r 


544  A    ROYAL    ROBBER 

i  .-  ^ 

the  most  severe  punishment,  to  hold  an}'  communica- 
tion whatever  with  the  outside  world.  This  was  a 
fine  indication  of  the  manner  in  which  promises  made 
at  the  time  of  the  capitulation  would  be  kept. 

One  man  of  God,  however,  received  the  o^her  at  the 
door  of  the  cathedral:  Prince  Franz  Egon  of  Fiirsten- 
berg,  Bishop  of  Strassburg,  welcomed  His  Most  Christ- 
ian Majesty. 

There  stood  the  shameless  wretch,  greeting  the 
usurper  of  Strassburg,  Louis  XIV  as  follows:  "Blessed 
be  God  the  Father,  God  the  Son,  and  God  the  Holy 
Ghost,  for  this  hour!  After  being  reinstated  by  the 
strong  omnipotent  arm  of  Your  Majesty,  the  greatest 
king  of  the  earth,  in  the  possession  of  this  church, 
from  which  my  predecessors  were  driven  by  the  vio- 
lence of  the  heretics,  I  may  well  say  with  old  Simeon: 
'Lord,  now  lettest  Thou  Thy  servant  depart  in  peace, 
for  mine  eye  have  seen  Thy  salvation.'" 

Such  were  the  words  of  the  shameless  traitor  to  his 
native  city  and  country,  the  German  prince,  Franz 
Egon  of  Fiirstenberg,  Bishop  of  Strassburg,  as  he 
extended  the  crucifix  for  Louis  XTV,  King  of  France, 
to  kiss.  Then,  according  to  custom,  he  offered  His 
Majesty  the  holy  water  the  folding  doors  flew  wide 
open,  the  organ  sounded,  the  king  and  his  train 
entered  the  magnificent  edifice,  and  the  7>  Deitm 
laudamus  began. 

Before  the  high  altar  knelt  Louis  XIV,  King  of 
France,  thanking  God — for  having  prospered  his  rob- 
bery of  Strassburg. 


:"^- 


CHAPTER   X.         - 

•'  JOY   AND   SORROW. 

The  king  had  left  Strassburg,  but  the  bells  still 
rang,  the  cannon  still  thundered  to  escort  His  Majesty 
to  the  boundaries  of  the  now  French  city.  ' 

But  the  impression  made  by  Louis  XIV  on  the  bet- 
ter portion  of  the  inhabitants  was  very  unfavorable, 
and  greatly  increased  the  universal  anxiet)'  regarding 
the  future.  - 

.s  His  first  act  showed  distrust  and  love  of  tyranny. 
The  king,  as  soon  as  he  arrived,  mounted  his  horse, 
in  order — accompanied  by  Louvois  and  Vauban — to 
visit  the  citadel  the  latter  had  planned.  - 

His  Majesty  ordered  the  work  to  be  executed  as  rap- 
idly as  possible,  as  well  as  the  building  of  the  two 
redoubts  Louvois  had  directed  to  be  erected  within 
the  city  to  hold  the  inhabitants  in  check,  if  they 
chanced  to  be  rebellious. 

Moreover,  on  the  same  day,  Louis  XIV  orderied  that 
eighty  pieces  of  the  captured  artiller}^ — among  them 
.  the  ancient  Maise,  dear  to  the  hearts  of  the  citizenss 
— should  be  taken  to  Breisach  to  be  recast,  while  at 
the  same  time  the  citizens,  on  account  of  some  free 
speaking,  received  fresh  and  strict  commands  to  de- 
35  ->  •'-,.,      -    :■-    545,     .,  ;^,:_ . 


546 


A  ROYAL  ROBBER 


liver  up  their  guns,  nay  even  their  swords  and  pistols. 

Strassburg  received  these  first  fruits  of  the  new  rule 
in  sullen,  angry  silence.  But  what  resistance  could 
the  inhabitants  make?  Fifteen  thousand  Frenchmen 
held  them  in  check  and  watched  the  grave  of  their  four 
centuries  of  freedom. 

But  the  patriots — so  far  as  was  possible — had 
proudly  and  firmly  closed  their  eyes  and  ears  to  all 
the  brilliant  festivals  of  the  last  week.  Even  the 
houses  in  many  streets  were  shut,  and  many  hundreds 
of  windows  remained  closed  by  curtains,  while  usurp- 
ing royalty  was  displaying  its  magnificence  and  splen- 
dor without. 

Ah!  the  pain  in  the  hearts  of  the  patriots  was  far 
too  great,  the  grief  of  the  Frantz  family  was  inde- 
scribable. 

To  deep  sorrow  over  the  fall  of  Strassburg  was 
united  secret  rebellion,  indignation  at  the  manner  in 
which  the  treacherous  deed  had  been  effected  and  the 
traitors  themselves,  as  well  as  sincere  mourning  for 
the  death  of  the  worthy  Wenck. 

Hugo  von  Zedlitz  and  the  Syndlcus  had  had  him 
buried  quietly,  and  followed  his  body  to  the  grave. 
Never  was  grief  more  sincere  than  theirs,  but  in  these 
troublous  times  they  locked  it  deep  in   their  hearts. 

And  must  not  fresh  anxieties  be  added  to  these 
cares?  The  new  government  had  already  proved  faith- 
less to  its  pledge  in  many  instances,  who  was  to  pre- 
vent Its  violation  of  the  eighth  article  of    the  capitu- 


JOY  AND    SORROW  547 

lation  with  its  promise  of  a  universal  amnesty?  And 
were  not  Frantz  and  his  family,  as  well  as  Hugo  von 
Zedlitz,  seriously  compromised  in  regard  to  the  new 
government?  Had  they  not  cause  to  expect  the  worst 
from  Giinzer,  their  mortal  enemy,  who  now  held  the 
highest  place  among  the  magistrates,  whom  he  directed 
by  virtue  of  his  position,  nay  who  was  commissioned 
by  the  French  government  to  watch  the  magistrates 
and  citizens  and  report  any  hostile  feeling. 

And  how  was  such  a  loyal  German  as  the  Syndicus 
to  abjure  allegiance  to  Germany  and  swear  fealty  to 
France?     How  could  Hugo  von  Zedlitz  do  this? 

Syndicus  Frantz  had  therefore,  ever  since  the  in- 
evitable capitulation,  remained  absent  from  the  meet- 
ings of  the  magistrates  and  had  not  appeared  to  take 
the  oath.  Hugo,  by  his  advice,  remained  in  conceal- 
ment, at  least  for  the  present. 

With  deep  sorrow  Hedwig  and  Alma  beheld  the  man 
to  whom  their  hearts  clung  as  the  best  and  most  faith- 
ful husband  and  father,  aging  rapidly  since  his  last 
illness  and  especially  since  the  fall  of  his  beloved 
Strassburg.  His  brown  hair,  which  of  late  had  only 
been  .sparsely  tinged  with  gray,  had  now  become  white, 
his  erect  frame  bowed ;  his  grave,  dignified  features 
had  assumed  a  look  of  still  greater  earnestness,  nay 
a  somewhat  stern,  harsh  expression,  which  was  usually 
utterly  foreign  to  his  gentle,  kindly  nature. 

Besides  the  Syndicus  of  late  had  talked  very  little 
— even  to  his  own    family.     Locked  in   his    room    ail 


'HL'-- 


^ViS"- 


^^'f'm 


548  "      ;        A    ROYAL    ROBBER     -A'        t  ~       / 

day,  he  worked  busily  with  closed  curtains  and,  only 
came  down  to  his  meals.  What  he  did  no  one  knew, 
only  Hedwig  perceived  that  letters  came  and  went  by 
a  mysterious,  disguised  messenger. 

But  the  most  troubled  member  of  the  Frantz  family 
was  Alma.  Her  bright  hopes  were  all  crushed — the 
deepest  gloom  rested  upon  her  heart  and  future. 

Alma  would  not  have  been  her  father's  daughter, 
if  her  trouble  had  showed  itself  in  any  way  except 
greater  quietness,  grave,  silent  earnestness. 

Hedwig  respected  in  both,  what  she  sympathized 
with  only  too  keenly.  , 

Thus  the  house — standing  so  near  the  cathedral  and 
therefore  surrounded  by  noise  and  tumult— had  become 
as  silent  as  a  grave.  Deep  solemnity  rested  upon  it, 
and  to-day — the  day  when  the  king  intended  to  leave 
Strassburg  again — to  da}'  a  greater  shade  of  mystery 
was  added. 

Frantz  had  asked  his  wife  and  daughter  to  put  on 
their  black  holiday  dresses  at  the  time  of  the  mon- 
arch's departure. 

Both  looked  at  the  old  gentleman  in  surprise,  but, — 
accustomed  to  obedience  and  respecting  the  resigned 
gravity  with  which  he  had  spoken,  instantly  assented. 
But  still  more  surprising  was  the  request  to  instantly 
pack  up  everything  that  would  be  necessary  for  an  ab- 
sence of  several  weeks. 

So  afternoon  had  come  and  His  Majesty  Louis  XIV, 
King  of  France  and  now  master  of  Alsace  and  Strass- 


^_^^- :^ j.:^->-;..  ~  ,  ;;  >jf--  ■  'tj:^:i  ^':-  in.-:^-^  '■■.:- -^ 


JOY    AND    SORROW 


549 


burg,  had  quitted  the  city  with  the  same   pomp    with 
which  a  few  days  before  he  had  entered. 

The  bells  were  still  pealing,  the  cannon  still  thun- 
dering to  accompany  His  Majesty  to  the  frontier. 

In  the  Syndicus'  house,  on  the  contrary,  a  death- 
like silence  prevailed.  He  himself  was  locked  into 
his  own  room ;  the  mother  and  daughter  were  chang- 
ing their  dresses,  after  fulfilling  the  old  gentleman's 
wish  and  packing  up  everything  the  family  would 
need  for  an  absence  of  several  weeks, 
r  Hedwig  and  Alma — each  coming  from  her  chamber 
— entered  the  sitting-room  at  the  same  moment. 

Both  were  deadly  pale,  but  the  pallor  and  black 
silk  dress  made  Alma  so  beautiful,  that  even  the  most 
critical  eye  would  scarcely  have  wished  her  to  look 
otherwise.  There  was  a  lofty  expression  on  the  lovely 
but  now  grave  features,  while  from  the  beautiful  blue 
eyes  looked  forth  sad,  quiet  resignation,  a  deeply  ag- 
itated mind,  and  the  thick,  fair  hair,  whose  braids 
framed  her  head,  lent  the  tall,  slight,  girlish  figure  a 
gentle  grace.  The  whole  effect  was  enhanced  by  the 
plain  black  dress,  which  gave  the  child  a  pathetic 
charm.  Alma  was  attired  as  she  would  have  been  for 
some  religious  festival. 

The  bells  were  still  ringing  and  the  cannon  still 
thundering  as  she  entered  with  her  mother. 

"So  my  father's  wish  is  fulfilled!'  she  said  in  a 
quiet,  gentle  tone,  as  she  perceived  her  mother  also  in 
holiday  dressj   "but  what  is  to  be  done  now?" 


55<5  A    ROYAD   ROBBER  I 

I    ■       ■ 

"Do  I  know,  my  child?"  replied  Hedwig.  "But 
whatever  your  father  desires,  let  us  obey  without  oppo- 
sition. We  know  how  kind  are  his  intentions,  know 
his  wise,  thoughtful  mind,  and  must  respect  his  deep 
grief  by  quiet  compliance."  ; 

"I  trust  him  entirely!"   said  Alma  calmly. 

"And  your  father  deserves  this  confidence,"  replied 
the  mother,  "nay,  it  will  strengthen  him  in  his  bitter 
conflicts.  If  we  are  not  to  be  ruined  amid  the  calam- 
ities of  life,  we  must  have  by  our  side  hearts  that  not 
only  understand  and  feel  with  us,  but  also  know  the 
depths  of  our  natures  and  devote  themselves  to  us, 
even  when  all  the  rest  of  the  world  desert  us." 

"Well!"  said  Alma,  with  a  melancholy  smile,  but 
an  expression  of  the  sweetest  filial  devotion,  as  she 
clung  to  her  mother  and  kissed  her,  "such  a  heart  you 
have  in  me. " 

Hedwig  returned  the  caress;  but  in  doing  so  saw 
the  tears,  which  involuntarily  sprang  to  her  child's 
eyes. 

But  she  was  silent.  She  knew  what  the  tears  meant; 
but  there  was  no  room  for  discussion  here;  the  Syn- 
dicus  had  said  at  the  time  of  the  happy  betrothal: 
"On  the  day  that  makes  us  free  again  you,  my  chil- 
dren, shall  become  man  and  wife!"  But  where  was 
this  freedom  now — was  it  not  forever  lost?  Was  not' 
the  personal  liberty  of  the  father  and  lover  at  stake? 
Was  not  the  future — at  least  for  the  moment — veiled 
in  darkness  and  gloom?  " 


JOY  AND   SORROW.  55I 

"Have  confidence  here  also,  my  child,"  said  the 
mother.  "The  Eternal  Father  has  never  deserted  any 
of  his  children,  who  turned  with  love  and  trust  to  his 
heart.  Rely,  too,  on  yourself  and  your  own  heart. 
In  times  of  conflict  the  wise  must  know  how  to  bear 
the  inevitable  with  strength  and  dignity;  if  they  do 
this,  faith  in  a  fairer  future  will  support  them." 

"I  will  do  so,  mother!"  replied  Alma,  and  Hedwig 
knew  her  daughter  did  not  lack  the  strength  of  char- 
acter necessary  to  keep  this  promise. 

At  this  momnet  the  Syndicus  entered,  also  in  holi- 
day dress. 

The  wife  and  daughter  went  to  meet  him. 

"Children!"  said  the  Syndicus  with  gentle  earnest- 
ness, as  he  held  out  a  hand  to  each,  while  to  their 
surprise  something  like  a  smile  flitted  over  his  feat- 
ures. "Children,  God  still  lives  and  does  not  desert 
those  who  do  not  abandon  Him.  Come,  let  us  act. 
I  love  not  idle^  sorrow  that  leads  to  nothing  and  only 
consumes  our  strength." 

"But  what  is  to  be  done?"  asked  Hedwig  in  sur- 
prise. 

"Come!"  replied  the  old  gentleman,  "and  you  will 
see  and  hear." 

He  led  the  way;  but  his  figure  was  less  bowed 
than  it  had  been  of  late.  "He  must  be  sustained  by 
some  bold  resolve!"  thought  Hedwig.  And  in  truth 
she  knew  her  husband. 

The  Syndicus  led    the    v/ay    upstairs    to    his  study, 


-.i-^jri. 


552  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  '  ' 

from  which  opened  another  room,  only  to  be  reached 
by  passing  through  the  study  itself. 

When  they  gained  the  top,  theSyndicus  opened  the 
floor  and  allowed  the  ladies  to  enter.  But  what  was 
the  astonishment  of  Hedwig  and  Alma  to  perceive  a 
party  of  intimate  friends.  Both  men  and  women  were 
present;  but  only  people  of  the  same  views  as  those 
held  by  the  Frantz  family.  Hugo  von  Zedlitz,  Frau 
von  Bernhold— the  pretty  little  widow  whom  Giinzer 
had  so  shamefully  robbed  of  her  estate  of  Plobsheim 
— and  the  venerable  pastor,  to  whose  sermons  Hedwig 
and  Alma  had  so  often  listened  in  the  beautiful  cathe- 
dral now  forever  closed  to  them,  appeared. 

The  latter  was  in  his  ecclesiastical  dress  and  Hugo 
in  holiday  attire. 

-Heavens,  what  did  this  mean?  A  feeling  of  joyful 
surprise  thrilled  the  hearts  of  the  mother  and  daugh- 
ter, suffusing  the  latter's  face  with  a  crimson  flush. 
Hugo  greeted  her  tenderly,  but  the  deep,  though  gen- 
tle gravity  did  not  vanish  from  his  features. 

It  was  the  same  with  the  others.  ' 

When  the  quiet  greetings,  which  revealed  the  sor- 
row in  every  heart,  were  over,  the  Syndicus  said: 

"Dear  friends!  Grave  times  demand  grave  measures. 
1  will  not  tear  open  the  deep,  never  to  be  healed 
v/ounds  in  my  heart  and  yours.  Strassburg's  freedom, 
preserved,  for  four  hundred,  years,  has  vanished;  Strass- 
burg  no  longer  belongs  to  the  German  empire,  it  ,i.s 
now — though  by  treachery  and  unprecedented  violence 


f         ■- ^      -  JOY  AND   SORROW  553 

— the  property  of  France.  As  an  honest  man,  a  good 
citizen  and  loyal  German,  I  battled  against  this  shame- 
ful deed  to  the  last.  Fate  has  conquered  us,  we  must 
submit  to  the  inevitable,  but  that  is  not  saying  that 
loyal  Germans  must  bow  beneath  the  French  yoke.  I 
at  least — cannot!  That  is  why  I  have  given  up  my 
office,  that  is  why  to  day  with  my  family  I  leave  the 
city  of  rny  birth,  the  city  which  has  grown  dear  to 
my  soul.  I  leave  it  with  a  bleeding  heart,  but — I  can- 
not do  otherwise — may  God  help  me." 

There  was  a  universal  movement;  but  no  one  ven- 
tured to  speak  a  word. 

"But  I  cannot  quit  my  beloved  city  without  having 
finished-'One  last  act  of  my  political  labor!  "  continued 
Syndicus  Frantz.  "I  did  so  by  secretly  writing,  dur- 
ing the  last  few  days,  a  short  account  of  the  causes 
which  led  to  the  fall  of  the  city  and  its  transfer  to 
the  French  government.  We  owe  such  a  statement 
and  defense  to  the  better  classes  of  magistrates  and 
citizens,  to  our  own  honor,  to  Germany,  the  emperor 
and  empire,  as  well  as  posterity.  Here  it  is,  I  shall 
have  it  printed  and  laid  on  the  altar  of  my  native  land. 

"But  with  this  document  my  activity  in  the  now 
French  city  of  Strassburg  is  over.  I  am  and  wish  to 
remain  a  German.  But  if  the  alarm  bells  peal  again, 
if  the  emperor  again  unfurls  the  old  banner,  if  through 
all  .Germany  the  cry  resounds:  'Up,  German  brothers, 
on  to  the  Rhine!  Avenge  the  disgrace  and  wrong 
done  you  and  our  German  native  land  by  the   robberj 


■■:^ 


.•*i^ 


554  A    ROYAL   ROBBER  j  " 

of  Alsace  and  Strassburg,  then,  then,  my  friends,  old 
Frantz  will  not  be  absent;  then  I  will  return  to  you, 
dear  beloved  Strassburg  and  help  regain  your  free- 
dom, though  I  should  shed  my  old  blood  before  your 
ramparts." 

Frantz  had  spoken  with  ardent  enthusiasm;  now,  in 
spite  of  his  age,  he  stood  with  his  figure  drawn  up 
to  its  full  height,  his  eyes  sparkled,  his  cheeks  glowed, 
and  raising  both  hands  to  Heaven  as  if  to  conjure 
it  to  speedily  bring  about  such  an  awakening  of  the 
German  nation,  such  a  restoration  of  its  honor,  tears 
gushed  from  his  eyes.  . 

Filled  with  the  solemnity  of  the  moment,  and  obey- 
ing the  impulse  of  their  own  hearts,  all  the  men  pres- 
ent, raising  their  hands  as  if  to  take  an  oath,  ex- 
claimed: 

"Yes,  yes,  we  will  be  here  too,    we,    too,  will    fight 
to  regain  for  our  dear  native  city  its  old  freedom  and 
allegiance." 

And  all  with  glowing  hearts,  and  tears  of  mingled 
sorrow  and  holy  anger,  clasped  hands  and  shook  them 
upon  the  solemn  oath. 

"Be  it  so!"  Syndicus  Frantz  now  continued.  "And 
with  this  vow  and  the  resolve  to  quit  Strassburg  with 
my  family,  the  day  of  freedom  has  returned  for  me 
and  mine.  Long  ago  I  purchased  a  modest  little  estate 
in  one  of  the  loveliest  valleys  of  the  Rhine — on  Ger- 
man soil.  Thither  I  go  to-day  with  my  relatives.  An 
attorney  here  will  arrange  my  business  in  Strassburg 


>li?j:.K<kiiJt^fii^'~^^^'>!ffji«*3Lt'-ni^i:i:i^;!«^ 


JOY  AND  SORROW  555 

and  send  us  the  remnants  of  our  property.  It  will  be 
enough  to  enlarge  the  little  estate  sufficiently  to  en- 
able us  all — with  our  modest  wishes — to  live  on,  and 
by,  if  free  in  God's  free  nature,  far  from  the  petti- 
nesses of  men.  <  K      ^ 

"But  ere  this  happens,  I  have  one  ple\^ant  duty  to 
perform."  Turning  with  open  arms  to  Hugo  and 
Alma,  he  exclaimed:  "Come  to  my  heart,  my  children! 
I  promised  that  on  the  day  that  made  us  free  again, 
you  should  become  man  and  wife.  True,  he  added 
sadly,  I  then  thought  of  a  far  different  freedom.  God 
has  willed  otherwise;  we  mortals  must  bow  before 
Him  and  His  often  veiled  wisdom.  But  we  need  not 
therefore  allow  ourselves  to  be  made  slaves.  Free- 
dom and  loyalty  to  Germany  is  the  breath  of  life  to 
us.  Away  with  chains,  and  let  us  live  free  Germans 
in  our  German  native  land.  The  day  of  our  removal 
from  here  is  also  the  day  that  makes  us  free  again, 
that  is:  your  wedding  day,  the  day  on  which  the  bless- 
ing of  God,  our  blessing,  and  love  will  unite  you  as 
husband  and  wife." 

At  these  words  Alma's  friend,  young  Frau  von  Bern- 
hold,  her  beautiful  face  wet  with  tears,  approached 
and  placed  a  myrtle  wreath  on  the  young  girl's  luxu- 
riant hair.  The  father  opened  the  door  of  the  adjoin- 
ing room,  which  had  been  transformed  into  a  simple 
chapel. 

Upon  a  plain  desk  lay  the  Bible.  Candles  burned 
on  either  side.  As  the  bridal  pair  entered,  led  by 
the  old  pastpr  and  followed  by  parents  and  guests,  a 


SS^  A    ROYAL    ROBBER  j 

?  deep  silence  prevailed,  amid  which  was  heard  without 

;^^  the  solenm  pealing  of  the  bells,  blending  with  the  dull 

1^ ;/-         roar  of  the  cannon. 

^*'  '  -'  Solemn  and  earnest  were  the  words  now  spoken  by 
the  old  pastor;  profoundly  earnest,  yet  pervaded  with 
tender  warmth:  a  marriage  address  beside  the  grave 
of  freedom.  "But  freedom,"  said  the  venerable  old 
man,  "is  the  true  Messiah  of  humanity,  and  will  there- 
fore rise  from  every  grave." 
"'  ■  ■  When  he  ended  the  bells  and  cannon  were  silent. 
His  Majesty,  Louis  XIV,  King  of  France,  had  left  the 
possessions  of  Strassburg  behind  him;  the  robbery  of 
the  city  had  been  completed  and  secured.  But  in  the 
quiet  little  room,  surrounded  by  a  few  faithful  friends, 

>  bidding  them  farewell  with    tearful    eyes,  two    deeply 

r" "  ■       agitated    but    infinitely     happy    human    beings     were 

:~  clasped  in  each  others  arms. 

At  the  same  hour,  by  Hugo  von  Zedlitz'    directions, 
some  unknown  hand    secretly    placed  a    clay  statue  of 

fc  honest  little  Wenck   on    the  gable    roof  of    his  house. 

It  stood  there — a  memento  of  the  leal,  patriotic  soul 
— until  very  recently.  But  although  it  finally  fell  a 
victim  to  Time,  and  long  years  seemed  to  sanction  the 

f.  possession  of  Strassburg  by  France — Germany  and  the 

German  nation  ought  and  ^ust  never  forget  one  thing 

'  and  that  is:        ... 

&  The  seizure  of  Strassburg  In  1681.  .  .    ,  > 


THE  END 


ABBEY  iERlEi 


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RETAIL  PRICE,  25  CENTS 

1.  AdamBedd -. _ p:iiot 

2.  £sop's  Fables ._-  .V^op 

6.  Allan  Quatermaiu.. Haggard 

7.  Anderson's  Fairy  Tales Andersen 

8.  An  Englisli  Woman's  LoveLetters.. 

10.  A  Study  In  Scarlet Dovle 

11.  A  Wiclsed  Girl - Hay 

12.  At  tbe  Oreen  Dragon Harraden 

14.  BaclE  totbe  Old  Home .-.Hav 

16.  Bag  of  Diamonds iFenn 

18.  Baled  Hay LXye 

20.  Banditti  of  the  Prairies Bonney 

22.  Beside  tiie  Bonnie  Brier  Bush.-- -- Maclarcn 

24.  Black  Beauty -- -.Sewall 

26.  Black  Rock -__Conno! 

29.  Called  Back - --.Conway 

31.  Cardinal  Sin Sue 

33.  Charlotte  Temple - Rowson 

37.  Chimes  and  Christmas  Carol - --.Dickens 

39.  Clemenceau  Case --..- ---Dumas 

41.  Cricket  on  the  Hearth - _ Dickens 

42.  Divorced.-- Dalil^ren 

46.  Dodo - - Benson 

46.  DoraDeane Holmes 

47.  Duchess "The  Duchess" 

51.  Elizabeth  andHer  German  Garden -  . 

63.  Esther  Waters.: - --.Moore 

84.  Fatal  Love . .\rias 

65.  First  Violin  .- Fothergill 

§6.  Flower  Fables  - - ^  Alcott 

67.  Forging  the  Fetters - -.-Alexander 

61.  Gulliver's  Travels . Swift 

63.  Heir  of  Lynne   _._ Buclianan 

67.  House  of  the  Wolf Weyman 

74.  Ideala Grand 

76.  In  Chase  of  Crime.- - Du  Boisgobey 

80.  John  Halifax-. — Mulock 

83.  Kidnapped - _ ..Stevenson 

86.  Knickerbocker's  New  York Irving 

90.  Lady  Grace - - - Wood 

92.  Lamplighter Cummins 

94.  Laat  Days  of  Pompeii Lytton 

95.  La  veuve .  : Feuillet 

96.  Let  Ua  Follow  Him SienkiewiC2 

98.  Light  That  Failed Kipling 


-■■■^mmv 


ll'"'  Dosr  Crunoe  and  His  Master B.  M.  Ballantyne 

107.  l)oK  of  Flanders,  A Ouida 

108.  Dolly  Dialogues Anthony  Hope 

110.  Dora  Deane IStary  J.  Holmes 

112.  Dream  Life (Ik  Marvel)  Donald  G.  Mitchell 

114.  Drummond's  Addresses Henry  Drummoud 

116.  Duchess (The  Duchess)  Mrs.  Hungerford 

116.  Elizabeth  and  Her  German  Garden 

118.  Emerson's  Essays Kaiph  V  jildo  Emerson 

119.  Emerson's  Poems Ralph  Waldo  Emerson 

120.  English  Woman's  Love  Letters,  An 

121.  English  Orphans Mary  Jr  ne  Holmes 

122.  Essays  of  Elia Charles  Lamb 

123.  Esther  Waters George  Moore 

12B.  Ethics  of  the  Dust John  Buskin 

127.  Evangeline lleuiy  W.  Lo]i,<jfenav/ 

128.  Evil  Eye,  The TheopLile  Gauthior 

131.  Fatal  Love Remiriz  Arias 

182.  Fairyland  of  Science .Aiabella  Uucklcy 

134.  Favorite  Poems Elmo 

135.  Flower  Fables Louisa  M.  Alcott 

187.  Fifteen  Decisive  Battles Sir  Edvrard  Shepherd  Orensy 

139.  First  Violin Je^isie  Fothergill 

140.  Forging  the  Fetters Mrs.  Alexander 

141.  Frankenstein Mary  Shelley 

143.  Garden  of  Verses,  Child's Robert  Louis  Stevenson 

145.  Gold  Dust Charlotte  M.  Yonge 

147.  Grandfather's  Chair Kathaniel  Hawthorne 

148.  Green  Dragon,  At  the Beatrice  Harraden 

161.  Gulliver's  Ti-avels ^-r. Dean  Swift 

163.  Heir  of  Linne Robert  Buchanan 

158.  Her  Shattered  Idol.  ..   Belle  V.  Logan 

169.  Heroes  and  Hero  Worship Thomas  Carlyle 

161.  Hiawatha ; Henry  W.  Longfellffw 

162.  Holmes'  Poems Oliver  Wendell  Holmes 

163.  Homestead  on  the  Hillside Mary  Jane  Holmes 

165.  House  of  Seven  Gables Nathaniel  Hawthorne 

167.  House  of  the  Wolf Stanley  J.  Weyman 

169.  How  It  Came  About Maja  Spencer 

171.  Hypatia Charles  Kingsley 

173.  Ideala Sarah  Grand 

174.  Idle  Thoughts  of  an  Idle  Fellow Jerome  K.  Jerome 

176.  Idylls  of  the  King , Alfred  Tennyson 

177.  Imitation  of  Christ Thomas  a  Kempis 

178.  In  Chase  of  Crime Du  Boisgobey 

179.  In  Memoriam Alfred  Tennyson 

180.  In  the  Rockies W.  H.  G.  Kingston 

181.  Inez Augusta  J.  Evans 

182.  Ishmael,  or,  In  the  Depths Mrs.  E.  D.  E.  N.  Southworth 

183.  Ivanhoe Sir  Walter  Scott 

184.  John  Halifax Miss  Mulock 

185.  Kept  for  the  Master's  Use Frances  Ridley  Havergal 

186.  Kidnapped Robert  Louis  Stevenson 

191.  King  of  the  Golden  River John  Ruskln 

192.  Knickerbocker's  History  of  New  York Washington  Irving 

194.  L'Americane Jules  Claretie 

196.  Laddie  and  Miss  Toosey's  Mission Author  of  Zoe 

198.  Lady  Grace Mrs.  Henry  Wood 

199.  Lady  of  the  Lake Sir  Walter  Scott 

201.  Lalla  Rookh Thomas  Moore 

202.  Lamplighter Maria  S.  Cummins 

203.  Last  Days  of  Pompeii E.  Bulwer-Lytton 

204.  Lasit  of  the  Mohicans J.  Fenimore  Cooper 

205.  La  Veuve Octave  Feuil|et 

207.  Let  Ds  Follow  H im Hsnry  Sienkiewicz 

208.  Lena  Rivers Mary  Jane  Holmes 

?09.  Light  of  Asia. Edwin  Arnold 


I 


210.  Xight  That  Failed Eudyard  Kipling 

ax  Little  Queen  of  Tragedy,  A Laura  B.  Margh 

214.  Lime  Kiln  Club M.  Quad 

215.  Little  Lame  Prince MissMulock 

216.  Locksley  Hall  and  Other  Poems Al  f  red  Tennyson 

219.  Longfellow's  Poems Henry  W.  Longfellow 

223.  LornaDoone II.  D.  Blackmore 

224.  Love  and  Tears Arseme  Houssaye 

225.  Loyalty  of  Langstreth,  The John  R.  V.  Gilliat 

226.  Love  Letters  of  a  Worl  dly  Woman Mrs.  W.  K.  Clifford 

227.  Lucy's  Wonderful  Globe Charlotte  M.  Yonge 

229.  Lowell's  Poems James  Bussel  1  Lowell 

281.  Lucile Owen  Meredith 

234.  Madame  Sans-Gene Victorieu  Sardou 

235.  Maggie  Miller Mary  Jane  Holmes 

236.  Marble  Faun Nathaniel  Hawthorne 

287.  Maid,  Wife  or  Widow Mrs.  Alexander 

239.  Makers  of  Venice Mrs.  Oliphant. 

241.  Man  from  Wall  Street St.  George  Bathbone 

243.  Man  in  Black ..Stanley  J.  Weyman 

244.  Marmion Sir  Walter  Scott 

245.  Micah  Clarke A.  Conan  Doyle 

248.  Meadowbrook Mary  Jane  Holmes 

249.  Miss  Milne  and  I .' lota 

250.  Modern  Quixote,  A S.  C.  McCay 

251.  Moss-Side Marion  Harland 

252.  Mosses  from  an  Old  Manse Nathaniel  Hawthorne 

253.  Mortgage  Foreclosed,  The E.  H.  Thayer 

254.  Mother's  Cook  Book Harland 

255.  Macaria Augusta  J.  Evans 

256.  Minister's  Wooing Harriet  Beecher  Stowe 

257.  Mrs.  Caudle's  Curtain  Lectures Douglas  Jerrold 

258.  My  Lady's  Money Wilkie  Collins 

259.  Mysterious  Juror Du  Boisgobey 

261.  Nameless  Love Charles  Lomon 

263.  Natural  Law  in  the  Spiritual  Worjd Henry  Drummond 

265.  Not  Like  Other  Girls Eosa  N.  Carey 

266.  Now  or  Never Oliver  Optic 

267.  Octoroon,  The Miss  M.  E.  Braddon 

268.  Old  California  Days James  Steel 

269.  Oklahoma  Scout,  The ; Theo.  Baughman 

270.  Origin  of  Species Darwin 

272.  Past  and  Present Thomas  Carlyle 

273.  Paradise  Lost John  Milton 

275.  Pathfinder J.  Fenimore  Cooper 

279.  Paul  and  Virginia Saint  Pierre 

281.  Peck's  Boss  Book George  W.  Peck 

282.  Perfume  of  the  Violet,  The Frank  H.  Howe 

283.  Peter  fiimple Capt.  Marryat 

284.  Pilgrim's  Progress ;■.  John  Bunyan 

285.  Pioneers J.  Fenimore  Cooper 

286.  Plain  Tales  from  the  Hills Eudyard  Kipling 

287.  Pleasures  of  Life Sir  John  Lubbock 

288.  Poe's  Poems Edgar  Allan  Poe 

289.  Poe's  Tales Edgkr  Allan  Poe 

290.  Polite  Life  and  Etiquette 

291.  Prisoners  and  Captives Henry  Setou  Merrim  an 

292.  Pride  and  Prejudice Jane  Austen 

293.  Prima  Donna  of  the  Slums,  The Stanley  McKenna 

.  294.  Prince  of  the  House  of  David Rev.  J.  H.  Ingraham 

295.  Princess Alfred  Tennvson 

296.  Poor  and  Proud Oliver  Optic 

297.  Professor  Et  the  Breakfast  Table Oliver  Wendell  Holmes 

298.  Prairie,  The ." 1 J.  Fenimore  Cooper 

299.  Prue  and  I George  William  Curtis 

301.  Queen  of  the  Air John  Rnskin 

904.  Bab  and  His  F'rieuds Dr.  John.  Brown, 


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>  >    .  ..'-^  306.    Representative  Hen ^ Balph  Waldo  EmerBOn 

•  yy£  •  >'  807.    Bevenge  of  Oiroe. . . '. Alezina  Lorqngen 

/  "f^'~-\'  808.    Reveries  of  a  Bachelor (Ik  Marvel )  Donald  G.  Mitqhell 

"~r^:-~  309.    Robinson  Crusoe Daniel  Defoe 

.,     '-.  312.    Rifle  Bangers Capt.  Mayne  Reid 

''-'-' J  SIS.    Rubaiyat  of  Omar  Khayyam Edward  Fitzgerald 

■^  -  •  •  >  '' ■        ''!*•    Rosamond Mary  J.  Holir«i8 

l#^  ■      '  816.    Royal  Bobber,  A. Herbert  Rau 

j       "i  322.    Scalp  Hunters Oapt.  Mayne  Beid 

326.  Six  to  Sixteen Mrs.  Juliana  H.  Ewing 

327.  Samantha  at  Saratoga Josiah  Allen's  Wife 

-  ',;:  328.    Sartor  BesartuB Thomas  Carlyle 

h  ■•  ■• "  32S>.    Scarlet  Letter,  The Nathaniel  Hawthorne 

*i."  "  330.    Self  Raised,  or,  From  the  Depths Mrs.  E.  D.  E.  N.  Southworth 

;V  ;  831.    Seneca's  Morals Sir  Roger  L' Estrange 

832.    Sesame  and  Lilies John  Ruskin 

883.    ShadowofaSin Bertha  M.  Clay 

?:.  334.    She's  All  the  World  to  Me Hall  Caine 

:  836.    Ships  That  Pass  in  the  Night Beatrice  Harraden 

<  336.    Sign  of  the  Four A.  Conan  Doyle 

337.    Single  Heart  and  Double  Face... Charles  Beade 

838.  Singularly  Deluded Sarah  Grand 

839.  Six  Gray  Powders,  The Mrs.  Henry  Wood 

340.    Sketch  Book,  The Washington  Irving 

841.    Snow  Image,  The Nathaniel  Hawthorne 

342.    Squire's  Darling Bertha  M.  Clay 

843.    Stickit  Minister,  The S.B.Crockett 

u44     Stories  from  the  French Guy  de  Maupassant  and  others 

,. '  -  345.    Story  of  an  African  Farm (Ralph  Iron)  Olive  Schreiner 

846.  Strange  Case  of  Henry  Toplass John  W.  Postgate 

847.  Stronger  than  Death Emile  Bichebourg 

848.  Study  in  Scarlet A.  Conan  Doyle 

849.  Swiss  Family  Bobinson J.  D.  and  J.  B.  Wyss 

850.  Tales  from  Shakespeare Charles  and  Mary  Lamb 

L-  851.    Tales  from  the  Odyssey Walter  C.  Perry 

?.  352.    Tales  from  Tennyson G.  C.  Allen 

..    -  353.    Tanglewood  Tales Nathaniel  Hawthorne 

854.    Three  Men  in  a  Boat Jerome  K.  Jerome 

355.    Thelma Marie  Corelli 

856.    Through  the  Looking  Glass Lewis  Carroll 

357.    Tom  Brown  at  Oxford Thomas  Hughes 

,';  358.    Tom  Brown's  School  Days Thomas  Hughes 

■_.:>,  359.    Treasure  Island Bobert  Louis  Stevenson 

\,  360.    True  and  Beautiful John  Buskin 

'C-^_  361.    Try  Again Oliver  Optic 

862.    Tempest  and  Sunshine Mary  Jaue  Holmes 

.:     '  v?'  364.    Twice  Told  Tales Nathaniel  Hawthorne 

iV  ,-  ;,   •  366.    Under  the  Maples «, Walter  N.  Hinman 

■      ?'      •,    .       866.    Uncle  Tom's  Cabin Harriet  Beecher  Stowe 

i .-      -  367.    Vashti  and  Esther Author  of  Belle's  Letters 

;'   ,  f  ■    368.    Vicar  of  Wakefield Oliver  Goldsmith 

, ;'•        '  869.    Voyage  of  the  Sunbeam Lady  Brassey 

870.    Water  Babies Charles  Kingsley 

371.    Wedded  and  Parted Bertha  M.  Clay 

:      ;.  372.     What  Will  the  World  Say? Mary  Jane  Holmes 

'?  V  873.    What  Would  You  Do,  Love? Mary  Jane  Holmes 

""  '  .  374.    Whittier's  Poems. John  Greenleaf  Whittier 

875.    White  Company,  The A.  Conan  Doyle 

376.    Wicked  Girl,  A Mary  Cecil  Hay 

.  877.    Wide,  Wide  World Susan  Warner 

'878.    Williams  Brothers Adrian  Percy 

"  3'f&.     Window  in  Thrums J.  M.  Barrie 

.;        ^.-       880.     Wit,  Humor  and  Pathos Eli  Perkins 

:t    . .'c  381.    M'onder  Book,  The Nathaniel  Hawthorne 

i    :    V"  ■  382.     Yellow  Aster,  The Iota 

.,     V   .  383.    Youngest  Soldier  of  the  Grand  Army Du  Boisgobey 

'Z^.:-:7-''-..'^  391.    Zoe , Author  of  Laddie 


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